


Thanks for the Mem-ries

by StevetheIcecube



Category: Splatoon, Splatoon 2
Genre: Amnesia, Backstory, Eventual Romance, F/F, Grief and Trauma, M/M, Memories, Mental Health Issues, Octo Expansion, Pansexual Character, Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 25,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StevetheIcecube/pseuds/StevetheIcecube
Summary: Agent 8 was someone both before and after the time on the Deepsea Metro. A series of short pieces based on each of the poems in Octo Expansion with an overarching plot.





	1. Sardinium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I get my hands on these fish  
> I might exchange them on the range,  
> Except that they look so delish...

As usual, Hyacinth was running errands far away from the battlefield under the morning sun. It was early, sure, but the Octo Valley couldn’t sleep. They had to be running supplies pretty much constantly between Octo Canyon and Octo Valley to keep everything supplied properly, and the only real safe time to make a swapover of items was when the Inklings were asleep.

He was approaching the border sections near the fairly quiet Inkopolis Square, humming along to the music blaring through his headphones. Octarian Onslaught were a hell of a band. Once he got closer to the more inhabited areas, he pulled the flat black cap onto his head, jamming any identifying features under it and keeping his head down.

In the dark alley where they always met, next to an abandoned building, he sat on the edge of the curb and watched for any signs of activity other than what he was meant to see. He was supposed to run as soon as he saw anything; even if he was combat trained, this wasn’t his kind of combat mission and alerting Inklings to their presence within their territory was nothing but a bad idea.

But, as usual, nobody came. It was just him until he saw a familiar face surface from the drain in front of him. “Morning, Tana,” he greeted her with a smile.

“Good morning, Hyacinth,” she said, jumping up to sit on the overhang with him, her legs dangling in the air. They were meant to exchange backpacks before going on their way, but there was time. There was no threat to worry about, not this early in the morning, and he liked being able to talk to people. His job could be lonely sometimes, not that he minded.

“How is it in the Canyon?” He asked. It was how he always started their conversations, and he got the same answer every time.

“It’s fine,” Tana said. “A little dull, but the same as always. How’s the Valley?”

“The same again,” he said. “The weird old man set up a camp now, though. Wish he’d go away, it’s making everyone nervous for pretty much no good reason.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just an old cuttlefish. Probably homeless. No one would believe him if he shared what he knew. Anyway, I don’t want to rush this, but my commander wanted me back quickly today for extra manoeuvres. They’re picking people to transfer to the Valley.”

“I get it,” he said with a sigh, slinging the rucksack off of his back and handing it over. Tana did the same. “I’ll see you next time then, probably.”

“You were sent to collect twenty Sardinium,” she said, heading back over to the grating she’d initially emerged from. “There are twenty three in there. Get some friends together and do something, or sell them on for a bonus. Whatever you like.”

“Thank you!” He said, grinning at her. It wasn’t often that there was enough to spare that people like him got a cut. That was nice, and encouraging. Logically, he wanted to turn it in to get the bonus. Sardinium was useful for creating weapons, but...he opened the rucksack once Tana had disappeared back into the Canyon. Yep. It smelt amazing.

Even though he shouldn’t do it, and he knew he shouldn’t, he returned back with a bit of a spring in his step. He knew who he’d call to share these with, as soon as he got home. For half a beat, he heard the tinkling of a tune in the distance in Inkopolis, but he turned up his music as he passed it. He was curious about how Inklings lived, sure, walking around openly on the surface, but he was carrying a precious cargo and he didn’t want to waste it. It wouldn’t be worth it, considering the good times that were waiting at home.


	2. Octocopter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hilltop picnic, friends and fruit.  
> Your whirling blades provide us shade.  
> I raise a hand in mock salute.

It wasn’t very often that there was free time around in Octo Valley, but that day they were lucky. Patrols had been completed, deliveries had been run, and the required materials had been harvested for that day. All that was left was the afternoon sun and the three Sardinium fish he’d kept for himself to share.

Sardinium tasted so good he could probably eat all three by himself, but he invited a few of his friends and they sat on the top of a hill as the sun started to set. Above him, Cooper hovered semi-lazily, the blades of his headgear providing occasional shade for the rest of them below. They sat in a square, the four of them and divided the fish up between them.

Hyacinth had arrived first himself, and watched as the others made their way up the slope. Cooper arrived first, followed by Boomer, struggling to fly up the slope with his usual cargo of bombs. From there, they watched as Kole skittered up the slope, shuffling around constantly as they all waited for Stael, who struggled up the slope on her short legs. 

“Thanks for this, Hyacinth,” Kole said, taking the time to give Stael a piece of her Sardinium. “You really didn’t have to do this, but it’s nice. Things have been so stressful recently with that old cuttlefish.”

“I flew over there today on patrol,” Cooper said, descending a little to grab a piece of his own. “He’s picked up a young Inkling to do stuff with, I think. They’ve been making short excursions into the furthest zone.”

Hyacinth frowned. “I wanted this to be fun, guys,” he said, trying not to be too upset. Of course they were concerned. They hadn’t been attacked in a long time, and all the higher ups may be worried, but it was the lowly soldiers who always got hurt. “This was meant to be a well deserved and relaxing break.”

“I know,” Kole said. “Sorry. This is really nice, and I’m really glad you did it. You could have earned yourself a big boost by delivering extra resources.”

“I couldn’t resist the chance to spend time with all of you,” he said. They didn’t get much time to just spend time together anymore. They were all in different walks of life now. Gone were the days of basic training when they were all in together. He’d gone off to a proper training school while everyone else had been moved into different professions.

Honestly, Hyacinth was surprised they’d all survived this long. He was kept off the front lines for a purpose he couldn’t fulfil for another couple of years, of course, but the others? Not so much. Kole probably didn’t go a day where his life wasn’t at risk, especially these days. Even Stael, armoured up as she was all the time, was in danger. Things were just hard now, and that was the truth.

“You’re the best, Hyacinth,” Stael said, smiling. “And Tana, for getting us this stuff, of course. Though I think we all know the reason she did it.” The others all laughed, but all Hyacinth could do was blush. Everyone knew that Tana was trying to buy his favour romantically, and maybe he wasn’t entirely opposed to that. Tana was nice.

“I wouldn’t be sharing it with you guys if you weren’t the best friends I could have,” he said. He didn’t know what it was, but lately he’d been feeling like he really needed to express his feelings to his friends. They’d drifted away from each other a bit as they all took on more hardened and dangerous tasks, further and further away from each other.

“You’re being so sappy,” Cooper said with a laugh. “What’s gotten into you, Hy? You’re not much of a soldier under the sunset with some good food in you.”

Hyacinth laughed, shooting Cooper a sloppy salute from where he hovered above them. “I just wanted to enjoy time together,” he said. He didn’t want to say that he felt almost as if this would be one of the last times they could properly be happy together. The winds were changing, somehow. Things that were current now just weren’t going to last much longer.

“I appreciate it,” Kole said. “And of course, I appreciate the food. Pass on my thanks to Tana when you see her next. And don’t be shy when you see her, either!” The hill burst into laughter again. Why couldn’t life always be as carefree and happy as this?


	3. Octozeppelin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How loftily you float on high,  
> Suspended there in starry air  
> As you drip purple passing by.

Security was being stepped up in the outskirts of the Valley where Hyacinth was running his deliveries. He was running three successive weeks of night shifts at the moment, and while he was okay with adjusting to the sleep schedule differences, he missed the sun a little.

He liked the stars, though. The sky was so full of stars away from the weaponry factories. This was the best thing about running night shifts; everything went a bit slower at night, everyone had to skirt round the edges of light sources in populated areas to prevent being spotted. That meant that he was given an extra half hour to make a delivery that never even took the time allotted.

If he was the best soldier, he’d take the opportunity to finish everything early, get good marks on his record, and pick up extra jobs or get some more sleep, or maybe put in a couple of hours at the shooting range. But he wasn’t much of a soldier, if he was being honest. Sometimes he’d even be late on his extended deliveries, muttering an apology as he handed his package over. But he never mentioned the real reason he was always late.

He stood out under the stars and watched them go by. They were beautiful. The only source of light in the depth of this night. They were so bright, so numerous, and sometimes he felt like if he climbed to the top of a building on the surface then he’d be able to just reach out and touch them, even though he knew that wasn’t the case.

It was magical, even though he didn’t believe in real magic. Staring up at the stars, huddled under the cold night air, he felt...different. When everything was quiet, when it was just him and the sky and the stars, he felt like someone else. He could breathe more deeply. His mind felt clearer. It was incredible. It hurt him to leave that quiet and go back to the real world.

Tonight, he wasn’t interrupted by finishing his delivery. He had plenty of time left to collect himself and deliver his package, but something else forced him away from his daydreams of all the possibilities left in the world.

The new defences. And oh boy they were ugly. Most species of Octarian weren’t exactly the prettiest, at least when you compared them to the people who dwelled above the ground, but these were really bad. They were probably meant to scare anyone who came close, but they scared the people who were protecting them, too.

They didn’t have much of a soul. They drifted aimlessly, though there was a tentacle inside (Hyacinth didn’t want to think about that too much, it wasn’t his area of expertise anyway). And they had a face painted on the front, as if that made anything any better. Honestly, it just made it so much worse.

The only good thing about them was the sprinklers. As they travelled, they pumped ink out of the back of them, a waste product of...whatever they were doing. The dark night sky combined with the warm sensation of a gentle drizzle of ink was nice. It spattered the ground with friendly bullets, and after getting over his annoyance at being interrupted, Hyacinth looked up at the zeppelin with a small smile.

He sat on the ground and stared up at the sky again, knowing that the ink would soon be absorbed into the concrete below him. Propping his back up against a metal post, he tried to count the stars in a small section of the sky. He lost focus far too quickly for his liking. But there were so many of them, and as he counted, all he could think about was all the other people who got to look at these stars as much as they wanted for as long as they wanted.

He sighed, pushing himself up from the ground and ignoring the slightly painful friction between the concrete and his skin. He shouldn’t think like this. He had a path, and it was a good one for an Octarian. He wasn’t big or high up, though he might be one day, but he had friends and he wasn’t constantly in danger.

But at the same time...he wanted to be free. He wanted to look up at the sky every night and not worry about whether he was going to make his delivery on time. But the only people who did that were Inklings, and they were lazy and complacent and...this was what he was meant to be. He had a place here, in a huge network of people who cared about his well being. They didn’t squabble over petty problems. They didn’t hurt each other for fun.

Maybe he wanted to float everywhere like the Octozeppelin did, but that didn’t mean he could. Sometimes, even if he wanted to dream, he had to accept that he was stuck here on the ground, catching the ink left in their wake. And that wasn’t too bad, was it?


	4. Tentakook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You face away, thinking me blind,  
> Like I don't know what you won't show.  
> Your love is still clear from behind.

Alarms were blaring and all the weapon storehouses were closing up, and Hyacinth was caught on the outside. Honestly? Crap. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. He didn’t even have a weapon right now, because he was just going to the bunker to get it so he could set out on a package drop. The bunker was now in lockdown.

There were people dashing all over the place, trying to work out what was going on, but in the back of his mind it was clear to him. It was that Inkling boy, the one who’d been running around destroying everything he came into contact with. He was laying waste to every single carefully laid plan with barely a second thought, seemingly.

Reports said he was untrained, just an Inkling barging in with very little external help and somehow succeeding. Hyacinth didn’t want to believe it. It was too scary to think about, honestly. It made him shake just thinking about it. He liked to think that he’d be able to stand up to the invader, but this moment was showing him that he couldn’t take his idle courage for granted.

Alarms still blaring all around him, he tried to make his way through the complex to get up to where there were defence weapons on the rooftops. But when he wheeled around the corner, he came face to face with an Inkling. He was dressed in a bright yellow jacket, clearing lacking any preference for stealth, and under his over the top pointed headphones were two light blue tentacles tied up at the back of his head.

Their eyes locked for a moment; his were orange, Hyacinth noticed, slightly transfixed with fear. The boy was holding his gun out in front of him but not firing for the moment. He was afraid. He was unarmed. This Inkling had been storming through the entire army, had managed to get past multiple Octoweapons, yet here he was, unarmed.

He turned tail and ran. He couldn’t hope to face up to this challenge, but with all this chaos, he might be able to escape. Inklings were easily distracted, and there was a lot going on. He wasn’t the most interesting target here at all and he knew the layout while this Inkling didn’t. He felt bad, running away from the fight, but there wasn’t really much fight here. It wouldn’t be called desertion if someone did try to call him out for it.

He ducked around one corner, pelted down a street, and went into a small alleyway. He stopped for a moment to get his bearings and try and work out what was going on, and the Inkling barreled around the corner.

In that moment, he thought he was going to be shot point blank. He’d probably be okay, there was a spawn signal nearby and his ink would probably reform, but it was a painful experience that he didn’t want to go through more than absolutely necessary. The Inkling was looking at him, his finger on the trigger, moving closer, and he’d definitely be in range soon. But Hyacinth felt rooted to the spot. Even if he ran, he was tired, and soon he’d stumble over his own feet and it would all be for nothing.

Something small pelted past the Inkling, and a short beeping sounded. Hyacinth grinned as the boy’s eyes widened in fear; he clearly recognised the sound of a splat bomb. That language, at least, was universal. Taking his chance, Hyacinth sprinted in the opposite direction, taking tens of twists and turns until he was far enough from the warehouses that the sound of the alarms had faded into the background.

Exhausted, he flopped onto the ground, after checking, at least, that he wasn’t being followed by that Inkling. There were other Octarians all around, some rushing towards the warehouses, probably as reinforcements, with others carrying things away. It looked like things were going to be okay. He was safe.

Alongside him was the person who had helped him escape; Yael. She’d come down that alleyway, put herself at huge risk, and dropped a bomb on that Inkling, all to save him. Grinning at her as she also sat next to him, he pulled her into a hug. “You saved me, Yael,” he said.

“It’s nothing,” she said, and though her face was mostly hidden by her hat, he knew she was feeling embarrassed. “I did what I needed to do.” She was always so shy about what she did.

“I wouldn’t have made it out of that if you hadn’t been there,” he said. “I was grabbing a weapon from the warehouses for my delivery but they all locked down before I could get there. I was unarmed and he was chasing me.”

“I couldn’t ignore it,” Yael said. “I hope I got him right in the back as he tried to escape.”

“I bet you did,” he said with a smile. Thinking back on it, even though he was still shaking off the last traces of fear, the expression on that Inkling’s face had been hilarious. “I’ll have to do something to thank you. I’ll see if I can find something when I’m out doing the rounds.”

“It really wasn’t a big deal,” she protested. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m just happy you’re safe.” Hyacinth didn’t say anything, because he didn’t feel safe. She had saved him, yes, but that was a pretty big warehouse. And that Inkling had barged in and left him completely exposed. He didn’t want to think about how many people must have been lost in that attack. How many had been left without weapons, with no Yael to save them?

He sighed, looking up at the lightening sky. Was it only a matter of time before someone he knew fell before that Inkling? Would he face him again, and lose, still woefully unprepared to face a wild cannon like him? He had a friend to help him this time, but what would happen next time? When would the boy stop?


	5. Twintacle Octotrooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fat and heavy locks hang low  
> They frame your face above a base  
> Of stumpy leg and pigeon toe.

The zone had been left in disarray by the attack by that Inkling boy. He’d escaped once dawn had come, leaving all the Octarians to frantically conduct a search. Hyacinth thought it was pretty likely that the boy was up on the surface already, though. He wouldn’t stick around to get caught after such a successful manoeuvre. 

He was running construction supplies to the small base a short distance away from the main warehouses that had been attacked. Everything was in short supply after that, especially as they were trying to up the defences at the same time as repairing everything.

As he walked down the pathways at a fairly brisk pace, he heard something. He frowned, slowing his pace slightly to see if he could hear it closer without being late. There wasn’t time for him to be late and there was nothing good to experience out here in the middle of the day. The sound was below him, to his left, where the pathway basically dropped off into the nothingness of the Valley.

Carefully, he moved towards the edge, keeping himself as steady as possible. He was worried that whatever was down there would pull him over the edge. Respawning from that would be nigh on impossible. He kept a firm grip on the handle of his weapon, trying to ignore the slight shake in his hand.

“Hello?” He called. “Is there someone down there?” The noise came again, slightly louder this time, but decidedly strained. “I’m heading over to the edge,” he said, shuffling as slowly as he could along the path. “I have some rope, but not much, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get you up. Are you injured?”

The person he still couldn’t see fell silent for a few moments. He inched closer again, hoping he’d be able to catch sight of them. “I fell down,” they said. “I’ve hurt one of my legs badly and it won’t reform because of the pain. Please help.”

“I’m right here,” he said, some of the nervousness leaving him. This wasn’t an enemy; they’d spoken in clear Octarian. “Just approaching the edge now. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of this. We’re closer to the smaller base so I’ll take you there. They’ll have a couple of medics who can set you to rights.”

The Octarian who had fallen down didn’t respond, but when Hyacinth approached the very edge, he saw them. Their leg was...not pretty, to say the least. It had clearly been hurt by something, probably Inkling ink, before they’d fallen from the main road onto this outcropping. They were lucky to be alive.

“Wow, that’s...pretty far down,” he said, squatting at the edge of the road and pulling his bag off his back. He had some rope for emergencies such as this one, though more specifically it was in case the ground crumbled beneath him or another. “Hang on, I’m just tying the rope into a suitable arrangement so I can pull you out once it gets down to you.”

It was slow going, but he eventually managed to get the distressed Octotrooper out of their predicament. Once they were back on the road, they managed a small smile before they tried to walk, and their face twisted once more in pain. “I don’t think I can walk,” they said.

“It’s okay,” he said, going round to the other side of them so he could put an arm around them and compensate for their lost weight on their right leg. “It’s not far, and once you get there, everything will be fine.”

“Thank you.” They struggled on for a few paces afterwards, neither of them saying anything, but Hyacinth noticed that the Octarian’s breathing was getting more laboured. “Sorry. I think I need to stop, my leg is burning.”

They stopped, and the Octotrooper immediately sat on the ground, reaching for their leg. Their two tentacles fell over their eyes, obscuring their face for a while, but Hyacinth could tell they were pulling a grimace of pain. Their wound was a bright blue colour, a sure sign of an ink infection. “I have an ink salve,” he said, reaching into his bag again. “I could apply it, if you think that would help.”

“Definitely,” the Octarian said, his voice sounding strained. Hyacinth nodded and sat down on the ground opposite them.

“Talk to me while I do this,” he said. “It’ll distract you from the pain.” He prepared the salve for a few seconds. It would burn, but it was the only way to clear out and then numb the infection. He wasn’t a first aid expert, but you tended to pick things up on the job. “What’s your name?”

“Delthea,” she said, gasping with pain when he applied the first layer of salve to part of the wound. “I- I usually work in the Canyon. But I was transferred here to help deal with the threat, and when I arrived everyone was running around and confused. I just- I ran away. I only had light weaponry on me at the time.”

“I was caught outside the warehouse without a weapon,” he said, finishing the first covering. “I only came out okay because a friend protected me.”

“The Inkling chased me,” she continued. “It was terrifying. I’d never actually seen an Inkling in real life before then. He was so fast, and so ruthless. He pushed me backwards and backwards until I fell of the edge, and then he just moved on.”

Hyacinth nodded. He now felt very fortunate that the Inkling hadn’t chased him when he’d escaped. That very easily would have been him, and then there wouldn’t have been that delivery person to pick him up. He finished applying the second layer. “What about the stuff you enjoy?” He asked, pulling the dressings out of his bag.

“Oh, I mean, I- it sounds silly, but I’m interested in music,” she said. “The power of music, and composing it. There aren’t many tools as a lowly soldier, but I try to make my own sometimes.”

“That sounds amazing,” he said honestly. Sometimes there were all these things he wanted to express and he never could because he had no outlet. So all the words were trapped in his mind. “Okay, all done,” he said. “It should feel a lot better in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you so much,” Delthea said. “You saved my life.”

“Least I could do,” he said with a small grin. Helping people like this was part of what made being a soldier not so bad sometimes. Knowing that people had his back, and being able to support others. That Inkling just didn’t know what he was missing.


	6. Power Egg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though slick with slime, I keep my grip.  
> The chill seeps through my gift from you.  
> I mustn't let this cargo slip.

They needed to up their power supply. Down in the Valley, DJ Octavio was planning something big. A last ditch effort to destroy that Inkling once and for all, using the bait they knew he’d never be able to resist. Kidnapping an old man didn’t exactly sit right with Hyacinth, especially as the man hadn’t actually attacked them, but that wasn’t his call to make and he understood why it was seen as necessary.

That meant he was running a half more shifts than normal, which was pretty tough, and he was tired, and he didn’t have the time to stop and stare at the stars for ages anymore. He still did it a little bit, but he understood how important this was, so he tried not to mind too much. Honestly, the time he would have spent being bothered about it was now spent sleeping.

Today’s cargo was a bunch of power eggs from the Canyon, which meant he got to see Tana again. They’d been seeing a lot of each other recently, which was nice despite the circumstances. They didn’t have much time to stop and chat, but there was always time for a few words.

“Good morning!” she greeted with her usual winning smile as he approached the entrance to the Canyon. She was sat up on the same ledge as usual. She waved and beckoned him over. “Your cargo is here,” she said, indicating two bags full of power eggs, “but I wanted to talk first.”

“Sure,” he said with a smile, though he couldn’t help the momentary leap of fear when she said that. He hopped up to sit next to her, and she moved slightly closer. “What did you want to talk about, is everything okay?”

She nodded. “I just- it seems like this is going to be over soon, right?” she asked. He nodded. Things would all be resolved soon. This just required a big push, and then they’d be safe again. “So when cleaning up after everything is over, when things are stable again, do you want to, you know, meet up outside of work?”

“Of course!” he said, grinning at her. Her slightly nervous look shifted into a smile. “You’re one of my best friends, Tana, of course I want to spend more time with you. We haven’t done anything to just have fun in ages.”

“No, Hyacinth,” she said with a laugh. “I’m asking if you’ll go out with me on a date. As not really friends. We can just go on a friend thing though, if you want.”

“N-no!” he protested, his face heating up. “I-I mean yes? We can go on a date. Sorry, I- wasn’t expecting that. That’d be cool. Can’t wait until everything is finished now.” He smiled at her again when he was done.

“That’s good then,” she said, returning the smile. “We’ll sort it out properly at another time though, okay? We should probably both get moving now.”

“Yeah,” he said. Honestly, he was still processing this. She’d asked him on a date. When everything was settled. She liked him and wanted to spend more time with him.

“Pull your head out of the clouds for just a bit,” Tana said with a slightly sly smile. “You look like you’re going to drift away or maybe melt into a puddle of your own ink.” With that, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re cute, Hyacinth. Take care!” And then she was gone, back into the entrance of the Canyon.

Hyacinth grinned to himself. He wanted to remember this happiness forever. He’d known that Tana liked him at least a bit, but this was completely different. He couldn’t stop blushing, either. But he took a few moments to collect himself before he picked up the two bags, slinging one over his shoulder and keeping the other clasped between his hands.

It was slightly slippery, and the cool sensation against his hands was calming. He’d have to be particularly careful that no Inkling saw him this morning, with all of this. It definitely looked suspicious. But he kept his grip firmly on the bag of eggs and smiled to himself as he made his way back to the Valley. When this was all over, he really had something to look forward to.


	7. Octobomber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destroy your troubles—bombs away!  
> A tempting thought: bring all to naught.  
> No wonder your friends tend to stray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I'm entirely pleased with how long the chapters are - do people like them as they are with the super regular updates, or is it better with more spaced out updates but longer chapters?

“We should just attack him with a horde of Octoseekers and Octoweapons,” Boomer said, stuffing more bombs into his storage. “There’s no point trying to lure him in. We should just destroy him where he stands, or destroy where he lives. It’s not like we don’t have enough firepower.”

“That’s a bad idea,” Hyacinth explained. He liked his friend, but he could be a bit lacking in tactics at times. “He could barricade himself somewhere, and if he escaped he could go to the surface and we wouldn’t be able to get him. This way, we have him exactly where we want him.”

“Why can’t we get him on the surface?” Boomer asked. “Inklings don’t have actual weapons, just sport. They prance around all day and care more about fashion than whether their world will still be here tomorrow.”

“That’s because they don’t have to worry about it,” he said. “If they did, they’ve spent half their lives working out how to best defend their home, just in the guise of fun. Some of them are ruthlessly trained, as shown by this Inkling coming in and messing everything up.”

“We could destroy them faster than they could react.” Boomer’s confidence was slightly unnerving. Did other Octarians feel this way? Hyacinth didn’t think he understood the peril they’d been put in already by this single Inkling, acting alone. They’d stand no chance against organised Inklings, not to mention all the other species who lived in Inkopolis.

“There’s a reason we live down here and they live up there,” Hyacinth reminded him. “They won the Great Turf War. They’re not as incompetent as they seem and I’m sure they’re aware we exist. If they weren’t, this Inkling never would have come here.”

“You’re just a coward, Hyacinth,” Boomer said. “I know you mean well, but you don’t get it. We’re sitting here, waiting to be destroyed by this child from Inkopolis, while you run round doing petty errands. Things would be better if we just got rid of him as quickly as possible.”

“I trust the decision that’s been made,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. He didn’t like being called a coward. He’d run away in the face of that Inkling, but that didn’t mean he was a coward. It was a fight he’d had no hope of winning. “It’s not really me you need to complain to if you don’t like it. I can’t change it any more than you can.”

“I know,” Boomer said. “But I thought you’d sympathise. I just want the Inklings to be blown off the face of the world and never return.”

Hyacinth wanted to say something, but he didn’t think he could without making things worse, so he bit his lip and just nodded, collecting the last of his items and excusing himself quickly. He had a delivery to make, after all. But he also didn’t want to continue that conversation anymore.

He understood where Boomer was coming from. Years before he was even born, the Inklings had taken almost everything from his people. They were left down here with very few natural resources, forced to live in fear of those who could hurt them far above. They lived carefree lives and didn’t have to worry about being a soldier, continuing the species, anything like that.

But at the same time, he didn’t blame the Inklings, and he definitely didn’t want them dead. A lot of the people the Octarians loathed were just children, no older than him. There were enough resources, when combining things both above and below the surface, for them all to live in peace. There was no point destroying things just for the sake of it.

Maybe that made him a coward. Maybe it meant that, when faced up against Inklings, he would lose. But he wasn’t convinced that was the case. Maybe the Inkling boy who was attacking them was looking only to destroy them. But he didn’t think that could ever be true of all Inklings. The only difference between them was the Inklings had more limbs than them. Not all Inklings could be the same, awful people.

But he knew he shouldn’t think like this. He had to be focused on what was necessary; survival. All the same, though, he didn’t feel comfortable with discussing killing all the Inklings. Most of them just hadn’t done anything wrong.


	8. Octostamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems to you a sly attack,  
> But for your pains you make no gains.  
> You only get shot in the back.

“She listed you as her first contact,” the young Octarian said. “So I think she would have wanted you to know. I have the papers from her commander, but we’ll get the stuff from her locker as soon as the paperwork is tidied up.” He left without even saying that he was sorry for the loss. Hyacinth didn’t blame him. It must be a lot, to do this job. Getting too attached or engaged in it would only hurt more.

The Octarian had put the papers to his left, but he didn’t know what to do. Stael was gone. She wasn’t coming back. He hadn’t even been as worried about her as he was about his other friends. She’d always been so heavily armoured when she went into combat. That Inkling wouldn’t just tear through her defences without blinking, it would be impossible.

He tried not to cry, but it was hard. He was upset. He hadn’t seen her for weeks because their paths just never crossed anymore. But he was still listed as her first contact. He’d been one of her closest friends and they hadn’t even spoken since that picnic.

It was a nice thing to remember. The last time he’d spoken to her. The sun had been setting and they’d had a nice afternoon. But now she was gone. He wouldn’t share that with her again. He’d never get Sardinium and be able to share it with that same group of friends. He wasn’t sure if he’d want to do something like that anymore, now Stael was gone.

He pulled the papers across the desk and opened it, furiously blinking away his tears. The first page opened out on a picture of Stael in her armour, standing alongside her cohort. He recognised his school listed in her education, and when he turned to the next page, there was her leaver’s document, including her photo from just a year ago. He remembered taking those. He remembered queueing up for hours, being so excited to get out into the real world.

She was so young. Older than him, because he’d skipped two years while she had only skipped one, but they were both young. There were people higher up in the army who were decades older than their two ages put together. She was only sixteen. And now she was gone and never coming back.

The next few pages were about her military training. She soared through all their training programmes. She expertly dealt with being in heavy armour. But that wasn’t enough to save her from an Inkling out for Octarian blood. The second to last page described her development of a technique for attacking the Inkling in the field, and concerns over its vulnerability.

She’d decided to throw her armoured body on top of the Inkling, perhaps trapping a limb under her weight. It sounded devastating, on paper, but Hyacinth could see immediately that Stael wasn’t as mobile as an Inkling. It would only work if she caught him by surprise. And Inklings, though easily distracted, were very fast. But after examinations, the attack had been authorised for use in the field. The fact that it was the second to last page told him exactly what had happened when she’d applied it practically.

He turned to the final page. It was a deployment report for the first half of the page. Most of the file was that, too, but he knew this one was different. There was no lengthy mission report at the end. Only ‘Mission Aborted: Defence Failed.’

He put the file down on the table. He couldn’t read it any more. He couldn’t bear it. He squeezed his eyes shut and stood up. Then he sat down again. He couldn’t think clearly. Stael. He missed her already. He’d been missing her in the past couple of weeks. He’d been expecting to be able to see her again, once everything was over. He’d never see her again.

When they’d left the picnic, they’d all refused to say a real goodbye. Because saying goodbye was too real when they were in danger. He’d said ‘see you soon’, because that was what he’d wanted. He’d wanted to see her again. He didn’t want...this.

He wished he could have known what was happening. Wished he could have warned her about the dangers of her actions. Told her that what she was doing was too dangerous against a highly skilled Inkling.

Hyacinth wrapped his arms around himself. He didn’t want this to be real. He didn’t want this at all. Why was it all falling apart? Why now, just as he was starting to get old enough to do what he wanted with his life just a bit more? Why was it now that everything he loved was being torn away from him?


	9. Sunken Scroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mystery rolled up and bound—  
> Oh, what's the use? It's too obtuse.  
> I'll dump it in the lost and found.

He trudged down the path. It was broad daylight, so there was no time to stop and not much that was interesting enough to stop for, yet his legs felt heavy and his mind wandered anyway. But there was no time for grief and sadness. He had to carry out this search.

It was an old battlefield. The Inkling had left it a wasteland, but the machinery of his fallen fellows remained, along with many belongings and many things that could be salvaged. He needed- the war effort needed as many materials as possible. So here he was, scouting out the old structure. Stripping it of anything useful and then getting out.

The area was bathed in the Inkling’s ink, this time a vivid yellow colour. Hopefully it hadn’t seeped into anything useful, because they needed as much as they could get these days. Quickly, he got to work inking himself a path through the area. It didn’t take long to find empty shells of armour.

From there, he got down to work with pulling off the useful parts. It was not nice work at all. His mind couldn’t help but drift to who had once occupied this armour. Who had their belongings been sent to? Did someone else have their locker already, and wonder who used to occupy it? Was there someone remembering them fondly?

There wasn’t much available that was of any use. He found a few pieces that could be recycled, but most of it was now about as useful as a hunk of scrap metal. Most of the electronics were all jammed up with ink. This Inkling really did know what he was doing. He’d managed to ambush half a platoon in just this one spot.

Surveying the land, it was clear they’d need to get an industrial Squee-G in to clear things up. Which was a pain, because those things were in desperately short supply at the moment and were very difficult to control, not to mention dangerous. They couldn’t risk losing people, but they couldn’t let all this ink lie around either.

He sighed and moved onto the next group. This was much the same. Destroyed Octarians, empty armour, barely even a trace of the dark pink ink that was so familiar. No one to talk to. No sign that things were going to turn out okay. He hadn’t heard from any of his friends, which wasn’t unusual considering how busy they were, but now he had to wonder. Would he even find out, if he wasn’t on their contact list? How would he ever know if they were gone forever?

After that group, Hyacinth took a short break. His limbs were too heavy and his mind was starting to whirl from all the things he was thinking about, everything he just shouldn’t be imagining. Working was meant to be the best way to get rid of those kinds of thoughts, but he didn’t see that himself. It just meant his mind wandered.

He focused on the words written in front of him instead. He’d picked up a piece of paper that had been left somewhere behind a glass wall on top of a block. It had been difficult to reach, but he’d been curious at the time. Now, he wasn’t sure if it was even worth anything. It was a picture he didn’t understand, captioned with text he couldn’t read.

The image showed a machine of some kind, surrounded by primitive light sources and several talismans that looked decidedly superstitious. It must be an Inkling contraption of some kind, because Octarians would never treat an object in that way. But he had no idea what it was, and he couldn’t read the text.

He spent a few minutes just sitting there, trying to maybe fathom out some of the text. He recognised a few words, because Inkling writing wasn’t meant to be too different from their own. Normally he was confident with reading things, but this wasn’t any form of military language, which was what the Inkling he’d already studied was. There was something about...perhaps, a party? But he couldn’t tell. If that was the case, the image didn’t even explain the text or vice versa.

Ah, heck it all. It probably didn’t matter, anyway. It wasn’t going to be vital military intelligence, not with a caption talking about parties, anyway. It wasn’t like the Inklings worshipped the machine and listened to its instructions or anything, because that would be silly. Maybe they used it to make that strange alternative music that they were warned about constantly.

Hyacinth stuffed the piece of paper back in his pocket. It clearly didn’t matter all that much, and he wasn’t feeling quite curious enough about it to take the time to puzzle out the different dialect. He’d just dump it off into the items box, and maybe someone would pick it up. Maybe it belonged to someone who’d been killed here, and it was important to them. He just wished someone had named it so it could go to the right person.

Standing up, he resumed searching through the streets that had become the graves of so many people he might have even known. He carefully skirted past the area where he saw some Octostamp armour. Even if there was something valuable there...he didn’t think he could bear it.


	10. Octopod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So principled you might explode,  
> But when you burst, who's really cursed?  
> Your loved ones have to bear that load.

It had barely even been a week and he was in the same position again. This time...he didn’t know what to do. He stared at the poor person who had to deliver the news, and after a few moments he managed a nod. He wasn’t crying, but he was pretty sure that was more out of shock than anything else.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair it wasn’t fair it just wasn’t fair why did this have to happen to him? Why had this happened to his friends? Why? He didn’t realise he was shaking until the Octoling in front of him put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all feeling grief,” he said. “We’re all afraid. Take your time.”

He nodded again, and the Octoling left him alone. He didn’t know what to do. The documents on Kole were sitting in the same place as before, but he didn’t think he could open them and read them this time. It hurt too much.

They’d started with a different spiel this time. A successful mission; the Inkling had been repelled, the base defended, and he had to take a different route. Kole was a hero who’d turned the tide of the defence. But Kole being deployed at all...Hyacinth knew without being told what had happened to him.

It was different with Kole. They hadn’t been quite as close. Hyacinth was listed as his third contact. But he didn’t even know the first contact and the second contact had been Stael. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. They’d still been friends, he’d still miss him. And it just piled up on top of the other loss, making him feel even more devastated than he had before.

He knew he should feel at least slightly happy. Kole would have been pleased that he was being remembered as the hero of a battle. He’d always been the most devoted of all of them to issues such as strategy. Yet, he’d never been taken away from his role as a run of the mill front line soldier, dead in an instant if he made even one mistake.

Kole would have been so happy to know that this was how he ended. He’d probably gone into that battle not knowing if he would turn the tide or not, only knowing that he wouldn’t make it out again.

Hyacinth hated this.

He hated the death. He hated that he was losing everyone he cared about, and that everyone around him was losing everything they cared about, too. There were noticeable shortages on bases now, at least of normal soldiers. Heavy items that needed moving were often neglected for days at a time until someone managed to find the time to come back to them.

This was all caused by one Inkling, and he hated it. How were they being ruined by a single Inkling? What kind of failures had they developed, and what kind of incredible skills did this Inkling have? He’d always been told that they nearly won the Great Turf War because the Inklings were unable to get out of bed early enough. So why could this Inkling just walk all over them?

He was scared. If the Inkling brought more than a couple of friends down with him, they’d all be done for. They’d be wiped out so quickly. It would probably all be over within a couple of days. Honestly, they were fortunate that he hadn’t done so already, because he probably easily could.

He returned Kole’s file to the archives. Kole had always been a bit dramatic, and he probably would have wanted everything to stay in the hands of the people he’d trusted all his details to in life. His heart felt heavy, returning it, but he just wanted to do what his old friend had wanted. 

In ways, Hyacinth couldn’t help but be angry at Kole. He knew that this was what Kole had seen as his purpose in life. It’s what he’d always been taught, too; strike at the right time and your actions will have a huge impact. But that didn’t mean that his death, no matter how useful, was good. Kole had left people behind who now had to deal with the fact that he was dead.

If they failed now, Kole’s sacrifice would be for nothing. To Hyacinth, that was a lot of pressure, because he couldn’t see them succeeding any time soon. They might eventually, but it would take a while. And they might not. If the Inkling kept attacking all their supply lines, they probably wouldn’t win. That fear of failure just made Hyacinth feel worse.

He just wanted it to be over at this point. He wanted things to just stop being constantly at risk. He wanted to stop losing his friends. He wanted...he didn’t know. There were so many things he wanted that he could never have, and he should just stop wishing for it, but he couldn’t stop his heart from hurting when he imagined the Inkling having fun in between his bursts of destruction while he was left mourning.

He missed being happy.


	11. Tentacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How desolate this star-marked limb.  
> Is what awaits me this same fate?  
> I must not dwell; it's much too grim.

He was helping shift some items to an Octoweapon that afternoon. It was a hurried business, trying to move everything before the Inkling detected that something was going on and messed up the entire process. Every time he stepped outside of the safest areas, his heart was leaping in his throat. He was so afraid of being out alone. He was so afraid of being killed, or just of being badly injured. He didn’t want things to hurt any more than they already did.

Hyacinth tried to keep his thoughts focused on the task, but that only increased the intense paranoia he was feeling. But if he let his mind wander, he found himself thinking about what he’d lost in the past and what he might lose in the future.

He’d seen Tana the day before, and she was staying stationed in the Valley for the time being. He was glad of that. She was still safe, and he was happy that she was safe. He didn’t want her to get hurt. He didn’t think he’d be able to bear losing her after what he’d promised after all of this was over.

But he had other concerns, too, and the tentacle falling into his eyes every few minutes only reminded him of that. He couldn’t help but keep glancing towards the Octoweapon. It didn’t have sentience, so to speak, they were mostly programmed, but they had a living innard with the weapon as a shell around it.

A large, sad, bloated tentacle, marked with a star shaped scar where it had been pumped full of ink. There was nothing else left, but Hyacinth could tell where it had probably come from. You couldn’t take living tentacles from dead Octarians.

Hyacinth thought about all the red marks on his record from late missions, and he was afraid. In a war, there was only so long that someone who had never seen real combat remained useful. And he was starting to feel like they were crossing that line now. Especially after he ran away from the Inkling the only time he encountered him.

He also knew that he wasn’t the most trusted of Octolings. He’d travelled to the surface. He’d existed in the same streets that Inklings had, even if he’d never spoken to one before. That only ended in casting suspicion when things went wrong. And it wasn’t even like the suspicions were unwarranted.

Hyacinth knew that the way Inklings were portrayed in what they were taught was the truth about how a lot of them were. But not all Octolings were the same, either. They were all different. They liked different things, and had different ways they reacted to things, even though they’d all been trained in the same way, because their thoughts and experiences were individual.

Inklings were highly individualistic. It was a negative trait that they’d always been taught added to the weaknesses in the Inkling lifestyle. It wasn’t suited to fighting. But at times like this, Hyacinth thought that he wasn’t really suited to warfare either. He was too nervous, too jumpy, and too spacey. He’d rather wander for hours on end, watching the sky and tracking the clouds and listening to the sounds of the world.

That was why he worried about the future, he supposed. When this was over, what would he do? He’d go on a few dates with Tana. The pair of them would mature. Maybe they would stay together, maybe they wouldn’t. Whether they stayed together or not, within a few years he’d probably start raising children, especially if he’d never seen combat.

He was...he wasn’t meant to feel this way, he was meant to be glad for what he had. But thinking about that future, planned out ahead of him if things went to plan, or if he thought about that bloated tentacle, just made his head spin. If there was no spontaneity in his future, nothing that made it his, what was even the point?

He didn’t want to be the same person as his father. He didn’t want to be the same person as every other male Octoling who wasn’t properly combat trained. He wanted to be...he didn’t know. He didn’t know what else there was in this world that he could be. That was the only path really open to him. But he didn’t want it.

He wanted...he wanted to be free. He wanted more than all of this. He wanted to surface from this underground hiding place and be himself, among people who wouldn’t judge him for doing so. He wanted to explore a hundred different options about what his life could be. And he wasn’t meant to feel this way. He didn’t know what had gone wrong, and he knew he never would break free from everything, simply because there were no extra options. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.


	12. Zapfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Encased in a sturdy sphere of glass.  
> It breaks my heart to see you caught  
> With whiskers trembling as I pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a quick note, this fic got some AMAZING fanart based on Ch4 courtesy of Olisepha! It's absolutely amazing so pls give him some love on Tumblr his art is incredible.  
> The link is here: http://olisepha.tumblr.com/post/176280295108/Their-eyes-locked-for-a-moment-his-were-orange

Today, he was stationed to patrol a fortress. He didn’t normally do patrol jobs, but with trade connections being cut all over and guards being felled all around, this was just the job he ended up assigned to. It was a lonely job, if he was being honest. He didn’t get to talk to anyone unless there was a problem. He just walked along the same route every time, keeping an eye out for the enemy who was, reportedly, nowhere even close to this fortress.

Sure, it was an important job, but that didn’t stop it from being boring as hell. He liked being able to wander the roads at night, carrying things to where they were meant to go, experiencing things that elite trained Octolings didn’t get to see, meeting people from all over rather than patrolling the same spot over and over.

And then there was his patrol route. Most of it was okay, other than one scary dark corner he was always tempted to throw a bomb around just in case (he never did, because of the need to conserve weaponry, but that didn’t stop him from being very afraid most of the time). But he also went through the central power room in his route.

The Zapfish that powered the fortress sat there. It was encased in glass, trembling. When he passed, it looked at him. It stared. Its eyes followed him. It looked at him, pleadingly, every time. Maybe it knew he was a new person. Maybe it knew that he didn’t like seeing it there, and it was appealing to the better part of him that wanted to set it free.

But no. These things were important and they had to protect them, because their supply was rapidly decreasing and if they ran out of power they’d have nowhere safe to live. That didn’t stop him from feeling terrible, though. Zapfish weren’t meant to be held captive. They could live in water, doing what they wanted. That was how they lived in the wild.

Hyacinth had always been taught that the Zapfish didn’t mind being held for power. That they had very limited sentience. Looking at the Zapfish in this fortress, though? He wasn’t convinced. That fish was sad. It wanted to be free.

On his eighteenth circuit of the halls, Hyacinth stopped for a moment and watched the Zapfish. It kept looking at him, pleadingly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he kept moving. He had to make sure he was doing his job properly, after all.

Then the now-familiar doubts returned. Why was he even trying to do his job? His future wasn’t one he wanted, regardless of how well he did. Because the alternative would be worse. But was it worth aiming for the lesser of two evils?

He passed the Zapfish on his nineteenth round. “I don’t want to do this,” he confessed. The Zapfish didn’t say anything, of course, but it waved its whiskers sadly at him. “I’m trapped here just as much as you are, I swear.”

Sometimes, Hyacinth did feel a bit like he was encased in a glass bubble. Things moved around him, but he didn’t feel like an active agent in his own future. He just existed. He was used for a purpose, and he was very useful, but ultimately there were so many people just like him. He was only really protected because if many of him were lost, they’d be in big trouble.

“Do you think we could run away together?” He asked on the twentieth round. It was a silly fantasy. He could never escape; there was nowhere to go. Inklings wouldn’t take him, they’d just kill him. And if he was caught on his way out, then he didn’t know what would happen to him. Nothing good, for sure.

He kept letting his mind wander, though, and for the first time there was a vague shape of something he actually wanted in his future. A vast expanse of land, but full of people. People who accepted him, people who wanted to talk to him. He could see himself living alone at first, but then he realised that even after a few laps of a fortress he was talking to an animal that probably couldn’t understand, so he wouldn’t do well on his own.

Living in a house with a group of friends, then. People around him when he wanted them, but a space to himself when he wanted privacy. And when he was in that private space...he didn’t know what he’d do with it. But for the first time, he could imagine something that he really desired. The only problem was that, like the Zapfish, he was trapped in his tiny world with no way to break out and reach that bigger one.

The horizons were vast, maybe, but that didn’t mean he would ever see them.


	13. Callie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your song inspired a blush of love.  
> It gave my heart a fresh new start.  
> Now I ascend to shores above.

‘I’m not meant to be here’ was his first thought when all the doors slammed shut. He’d delayed slightly too long on his delivery, not realising that the timings were all about to line up. The area was being shut down to keep the Inkling in, and here he was. On the wrong side of all the sealed doors.

It could be really dangerous here. Really, really dangerous. If anything went wrong, the Inkling might run wild in here. He should get ready for battle, just in case, find armour, maybe see if he could find an escape route of some kind that he could open up in an absolute emergency.

That was what Hyacinth knew he should do. But he couldn’t find the panicked energy to do so. Honestly, he felt like he didn’t care anymore. So instead, he just found somewhere to hide. He could hear what was going on, but he couldn’t see a thing. It was loud; he didn’t even need to see.

It started off sounding like a prolonged music practise or concert on behalf of Octavio. Hyacinth could hear him shouting, too, but he couldn’t tell whether it was triumphant and taunting or the sound of him being increasingly backed into a corner.

That was when he heard it. The music cut out momentarily, and then it was replaced with something...something unlike anything he’d ever heard before. Before he even knew what was happening, the song had taken hold. Even from his hiding place, he was tapping his foot. He wanted to jump up and dance, even though it wasn’t safe.

Hyacinth felt...restored. The sadness, the energy that had been sapped from him by his grief, all of it was being reversed just by hearing the song. The flowing melody, the seamless base. It was, honestly, the best song he’d ever heard, and he’d been following the best Octarian bands since he could barely string a sentence together. But this...this was an absolute banger.

He couldn’t quite trace it. He didn’t know what it was that made the song so good, other than everything, or what it was even doing, but things felt different now. The world around him felt more alive than it ever had, but when Hyacinth looked around him, everything seemed so much more dead.

Why was he here, when there was nothing for him in the future other than regret? Why stay, when there was no reason to, and a whole world out there for him to see? More than anything, the future seemed brighter and greater than he could imagine, but most importantly the future wasn’t here.

But where was the future? That was the problem he now faced. Those voices...he recognised the cadence. It played everywhere, constantly, no matter where you went in Inkopolis these days. The singers were Inkling pop celebrities. This was Inkling music. Could he really go where no Octoling had managed to survive before?

Hyacinth caught himself smiling thinking of the possibilities. He didn’t have a plan, but there were so many things he suddenly wanted to see and do and experience above the surface. Places he could go. People he could meet. Songs he could hear.

Suddenly, a world that had seemed so empty and hostile was born anew for him. He could see it now. The words tumbling around in his mind had meaning and form and they unscrambled into patterns before him. It was unlike anything he had experienced before, this new sensation.

Somewhere along the line, he’d dared to venture out into the open, and now finally he could see the performance that was changing his life forever. The singers with the heavenly voices weren’t present, but he didn’t need to see them to know what they looked like, from the broadcasts he’d seen all over.

He could see the battle taking place, though. He saw Octavio, moving past, being...was he retreating? Being knocked backwards by...the Inkling. Hyacinth tried to muster hatred in his heart, but all he could feel was hope for the future and his heart beating in time with the music. He felt a blush rise on his face as he took in the full scene.

The Inkling kept pushing, kept pushing. The music kept pounding out, filling him with doubt at every beat. Octavio was forced to retreat further and further backwards, and when finally he unleashed something that would surely wipe the Inkling out...it didn’t. It didn’t.

Hyacinth watched, horrified, as ink unfurled in a terrible explosion. It wasn’t the familiar purple. It wasn’t a sign of victory. It was defeat. They’d lost, and the music stopped as the speakers were destroyed.

The music was gone, but the memory lingered in the ache in his face from smiling, the twitch of his fingers at every idle moment, itching to get out into the world at last. The music remained, and Hyacinth watched on in awe mixed with fear as the Inkling super jumped away, taking their leader and the bait that had lured him to this fateful battle.

It left Hyacinth alone with a group of stunned Octolings. None of them were exactly sure what had happened, but he knew that he wasn’t the only one whose life had just been changed by more than their crushing defeat.


	14. Mini Zapfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rhythm etched in little jolts  
> Those idols sing and put a spring  
> In my steps as I crank the volts.

“Ya, weni, marei…” Hyacinth trailed off when he spotted someone else in the distance. He couldn’t let them hear what he was singing. He didn’t know if people knew what had happened that night, but he didn’t want to risk anything going wrong. He needed to stay safe while he worked out what he was going to do next.

Everything had collapsed in the wake of losing their largest power source. They were back to living outdoors, cutting all their production down to basically nothing. They barely had enough power to sustain growing enough food. It was a nightmare. It was so tough. And it was the only reason Hyacinth hadn’t abandoned the cause yet.

He wanted to leave. He could see a future lying out ahead of him, as far as any horizon. But...he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t just abandon the people he’d grown up with in their darkest time. It wasn’t fair on them. They would only struggle more without him, and he couldn’t...if he left, he might never see them again. He didn’t want that.

They were all too busy for him to take time off to go and see Tana. In the Canyon they were having the same power problems. There was no time for dating anymore, no time for fun. It was honestly incredibly bleak. He hated it, because there was no time for himself anymore. No time to wander and ponder the stars, or the future, or anything. No time. No happiness.

He felt like he was trapped here, trapped by his loyalty to people even though he felt like he’d been freed by that Squid Sisters song. Stuck in an endless cycle of following orders that felt meaningless because he loved these people too much to sink into apathy about their fate now. He hadn’t even been motivated enough to protect them before he heard the song, but now he was.

He traipsed in his little circle around the storage centre with some of their last few remaining power sources. There’d been no further sign of Inkling interference, but they still had to keep guarding their Mini Zapfish. It didn’t stop Hyacinth from feeling bad about the poor things, though. Half of them had been born here, into this captivity and exploitment. Like him.

Could he even ever be free? He was still here, after everything he’d fought through, everything he’d lost. How were there still things tying him here? He watched the Zapfish for a while, just watching it sit there. What was it thinking about? Did it dream of a better place above the surface? Did it even know that there was something better out there?

Once the other Octarian had vanished into the distance again, he felt confident enough to resume his humming, but slightly quieter this time. The notes of the song felt like a gentle push at his back, spurring him on. It gave him the power to keep going, even though he no longer wanted to. He wanted so much more.

He just needed to figure out how to be free and not feel awful about it. He didn’t see how he could leave but still support everyone he cared for here. Probably because it was a choice of two sides. Either he could stay here forever, loathing what he did, living miserably, never going anywhere, or he could leave, and be happy. But if he left, that would be one pair of hands the Octarians needed that they didn’t have. And he’d never see Tana or Cooper or any of his friends ever again.

If he left, they’d have one mouth they didn’t need to feed anymore. Maybe that could be a good thing. Maybe if he could just detach himself from the people he was leaving behind, he’d be able to find new people he cared about. Or maybe people would follow him up to the surface, but that would require telling them and he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t be able to bring himself to drain the Valley of even more manpower.

It was such a hard decision to make and he hated it. He didn’t want to sacrifice his freedom to stay here. But he couldn’t forsake his people for the sake of his freedom. And who even knew if he’d be free when it came down to it? Would he be able to get out of the Valley now it was on lockdown? Would he be able to make a new life in Inkopolis? Would he be accepted there?

Hyacinth had to admit that he was optimistic, though maybe he was wrong to be. He felt like if he did make it to Inkopolis, they’d be nice. There was nothing about him that really wished to harm the Inklings, though he wouldn’t be particularly sad if that Inkling who’d taken everything from them was involved in a tragic accident. He wasn’t a violent person, and he liked making friends. He felt like that would help him in Inkopolis.

He needed to get back to work. If he was caught slacking and just thinking, he probably wouldn’t get enough food to sleep tonight without feeling the gnawing in his stomach. Hyacinth sighed, took another glance back at the Mini Zapfish, and kept walking, picking up the singing again as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief Calamari Inkantation lyrics taken from the Splatoon wiki :) they don't mean anything in Japanese or English, afaik, they're just in the Inkling language, but it's still pretty cool (I'll never unhear the 'fuel the melody' portion of the lyrics tho!)


	15. Octarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world I knew seems like a trap.  
> I'm drawn now to the strange and new.  
> Would my old friends think me a sap?

“Move it, come on!” Hyacinth hated these drills. They were pointless. It was all about marching to the same beat, fighting each other, keeping up their instincts. What was the point of all this fighting? Drills hadn’t saved them before and it certainly wouldn’t save them now. “You over there! Put some effort into it!”

Hyacinth knew the commander was referring to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to put anything more into it, even if he was marching out of time and would fall behind pretty quickly. He just couldn’t focus on that mindless beat like they could. And even if he tried, his mind just drifted to that song over and over again.

He knew he couldn’t live like this that much longer. His heart wasn’t in all this fighting. He just wanted to go back to the old times when he could wander through starlit, deserted roads, or hear the whispers of life in Inkopolis at dawn, when most of the population were asleep. He wanted to sit in the sun with his friends and go on a date with Tana.

Would his friends even understand him anymore? He’d fallen out with Boomer long ago. Since their conversation, Hyacinth had realised that Boomer wasn’t interested in much more than destroying things. He couldn’t bring himself to get along with someone like that anymore.

Kole certainly wouldn’t care for his change in attitude towards the authorities. Kole had always been so loyal to them, but where had that managed to get him? Dead. Recognised, for a few short lived moments, but his efforts were futile in the end. They’d still lost, and the Inkling still eluded them. They’d all failed to press on the advantage, however small, that Kole had given them. Kole could still be here and it would have made no difference.

Hyacinth liked to think that Stael would have understood. Back in the time when she’d been alive, they’d all toed the line. It was just what you did. She hadn’t had the experience of the loss and disenchantment he had experienced. But he thought that she might understand where he was coming from, if he told her that he didn’t feel connected to the military they were all a part of anymore.

Maybe he was silly and faint hearted like they were all saying. Sure, only the commander ever said it to his face, but he knew everyone who saw him thought it too. He’s sure they all thought ‘great, another Octoling who can’t pull his weight’. He was sure they were blaming people like him for the failure in the war, even though he’d worked hard. Well, maybe not as hard as he could have. And maybe he’d fallen apart at the end.

...okay, maybe it was a tiny bit his fault. But he couldn’t have done anything that would have turned the tide. It wasn’t like he would have been able to beat that Inkling. That boy’s skills were scary, and he had been scared in the moment he’d come face to face with him. And that Inkling had defeated Octavio; it wasn’t like he’d ever stood a chance in comparison.

There had been talk of running a rescue mission. Their intelligence said that he wasn’t particularly well defended. It would be possible to just swoop in and rescue him, theoretically, and that was what they were planning on doing. But then again, theoretically, they should have been able to defeat the Inkling in the first place. Theoretically, they never would have lost Octavio. Theory didn’t come into account anymore. All Hyacinth saw was all of them constantly throwing their lives away, again and again, hurting themselves and everyone they loved by these foolish missions of violence that would never amount to anything.

Maybe he had gone soft. Maybe he should retire from doing the military. Find something else to do that would get him out of these drills, away from this mindset of people constantly wanting to kill others, destroy everything, that kind of thing. But that alternative, at least not an alternative where he could be free, was so far out of reach. 

Were Inklings soft? He’d always been told they were, but he’d always been told that they were weak and that Octolings could never lose to them, and that was just a lie. Maybe Inklings were all vicious killers.

There was no point thinking himself round in circles anymore. This wasn’t the place for him. Maybe it had been, one day, but it wasn’t any longer. Now, it felt like a cycle of hatred and sadness and isolation, with no one really able to be themselves. A world that had been unable to grow for years. He felt bad, of course, but he couldn’t remain here anymore.

“Quit daydreaming, you over there!” The commander called again. His resolve to leave only hardened.


	16. Octavio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I leave without ceremony.  
> Don't be too sore I wanted more.  
> My sincerest apology.

He wasn’t sure when exactly he decided exactly what he was going to do and when he was going to do it. He just woke up one day knowing. Maybe it was something he’d dreamed. Maybe he’d just had enough. Either way, he was leaving that day, and no one even knew.

Hyacinth didn’t want to tell anyone; he was too worried about hurting them. He didn’t want people to be upset because of what he was going to do. Maybe they wouldn’t even know that he’d gone; it didn’t feel like people paid too much attention to him, these days. There was so much going on that was so important, after all. The feelings of one very average Octoling meant nothing in comparison.

He had a lot he wanted to say, he realised. He wrote it down, trying time after time to phrase it properly. Who was it even for? Where to leave it, so the right person found it? The wishes of a traitor wouldn’t be respected so no note he wrote to Tana would ever reach her, and if he wrote about her in the letter then she might get in trouble.

‘To the commanders,’ he wrote. That was the best he could think of. He knew a desertion case would probably reach them. ‘I am leaving to try my luck elsewhere.’ He was unsure of that statement. Was he trying his luck? Should he say where he was going, or avoid it so they didn’t chase him?

‘I am leaving because of the severe lack of care and understanding every Octarian experiences here,’ he continued. ‘From birth until premature death we’re pushed through endless military tasks and never allowed to gain a sense of self or develop where we’re most skilled. We lost an entire army to a single Inkling simply because we have not been allowed to adapt. Nothing will ever change for me if I remain here. I would just continue to suffer until I died. But I see the light now, and I know that I have to move on, even if it hurts me to do so.’

He barely packed anything; he couldn’t take any more than his designated rations and there were lots of things that would slow him down, even if the memories meant a lot. He tucked a couple of photos of his friends in the pack, alongside his morning food and the package he was meant to be delivering to the other side of the Valley.

Before he left, he put the note in clear view in his bunk. They’d look for him there, if they ever even realised he was gone. When he set out from the base camp he was stationed in, he went in the opposite direction to where he was supposed to go, and he didn’t let himself look back. He knew that if he did, he’d probably lose his nerve and return, weak-willed as he was.

And with that, he was gone. There was no goodbye. He didn’t even speak to anyone as he left the base. He just walked, not wanting to arouse any suspicion at all. If he spoke to a stranger or waved tearfully to a friend, someone might suspect something, and he didn’t want to get caught in the act of treason.

As he walked, he realised that despite all his resolution, he didn’t really have a plan. The main border needed proof of his reason for exiting, so he couldn’t reach the surface that way. He’d have to find a different way. He knew the layout of the land decently, compared to the standard soldiers, but that didn’t mean he was safe, especially not this close to the base still.

He was sad to think it, but he felt a thrill go through him. He was finally taking steps towards freedom. Real steps, and he got closer with every step he took. But at the same time, it felt like nothing. It was only putting into action what he’d been thinking about in the many months since he’d heard that Inkling song.

Checking that no one was around, he started humming it to himself. The lilting melody rose up and down like the tides in his voice, hitching now and then when he realised that he could sing with no restraints now. It was a good feeling, and it was difficult to do the song any justice when he couldn’t contain his excitement.

With a small smile on his face, he kept walking. Maybe there were a lot of things he was leaving unsaid, and it felt a bit like a failure to him that he couldn’t say them all to people. He sort of wanted to make a mark by leaving, as some other desertions had done in the last few months. But he wasn’t any kind of elite, and he didn’t have many admirers, only a handful of friends. So leaving a big mark wasn’t for him.

But not having a huge deal made out of his departure was good. He’d never felt comfortable when having the spotlight on him, and he also just...wanted to be safe. He didn’t want to have the entire countryside scoured for his presence like some others had. A lot of them had been completely unsuccessful in their escape. He...he didn’t want that at all. He didn’t want the risk, even if maybe he could make others doubt their own conviction through his desertion.

Hyacinth kept walking. It was sad that he was leaving, and he felt bad for deserting his people, but he’d made his decision. He could only hope that it worked out in his favour.


	17. Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beneath a summer sky I walk,  
> Through valley, plain, and back again,  
> Dreaming of what you might unlock.

Hyacinth would admit that he’d lost track of the amount of time he’d spent attempting to escape this world below. The seasons had changed a few times, though it was sort of hard to keep track of things when the weather was so sporadic. He’d traipsed up and down these paths looking for some avenue he hadn’t yet explored.

It wasn’t too bad, if he was being honest. He was sad that there weren’t people around he could talk to, and occasionally it was dangerous because all kinds of sea creatures who’d crawled out of the water had their homes here. But he’d gotten better at fighting solo, at least, and out here there were no orders to follow out, only him, his thoughts, and the need to survive.

Food was scarce, but not as scarce as he’d worried when he first ran out of supplies. Out here, there were no Octolings to consume the food. He was barely a blip on the natural wildlife. He had everything he needed out here to survive, and he seemed to be safe because he’d never seen any signs of people looking for him.

He missed his friends, though. He wondered if they thought about him as much as he thought about them, honestly, because he thought about them a lot. There wasn’t much else to think about, other than the world around him. He had the time to get lost in his thoughts pretty often, seeing as he didn’t have to be moving all the time. He could just sit around and do what he wanted.

At times, though, he wished he had a little more. He had his thoughts, and his life, and his freedom, but he sort of wanted other things too. He wanted to be able to share his thoughts, and live his life with others, and show everyone what his freedom meant to him. He couldn’t do that if he was stuck out here on his own.

That was why he kept moving. He’d return to the same couple of sites to sleep for the sake of ease and safety, building up a sense of familiarity with the landscape, but he was always looking to see if he could find a way to the surface. Sometimes, he contemplated trying to go back and cross through the border area, hoping that it was now undefended, but he didn’t want to risk giving up what he had.

What he had right now was good, and he liked it. He liked being able to stretch out in the sun after a long day and have a nap, not worrying about when he had to be awake and when he was allowed to be asleep. He enjoyed scavenging the wildlife around him, really earning his meals in a way he never had before. He liked singing to the skies and sometimes hearing birds sing back to him. He liked that he was alone with words spinning all around him and no one was there to interrupt.

But he was still moving. He wanted to find a way up to the main body of land so he could be happy with everyone else. So he kept following different routes every time he could to try and find a way to others.

That day, he’d yet again been unsuccessful, so he travelled back to the headland to set up camp. He didn’t know why he felt so safe so close to the sea, but he did. It was the rushing sound of the water below him, maybe, that reminded him of something peaceful yet somehow out of reach. It also meant that the usual silence didn’t drive him absolutely nuts. Usual was the key there. Because today, his hideout was anything but peaceful.

Hyacinth’s heart seized up when he heard voices. They weren’t Octoling voices, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. They were Inkling voices. Two people, talking. The voices didn’t register as anything he knew, but it wasn’t like he’d spent any time talking to anyone in the last several months. Had it been a year? Longer? He didn’t know. Hearing voices again was strange, and slightly jarring on his ears. He was curious, sure, but he was mostly afraid.

Puzzling out what the pair were saying before he approached was way too difficult. He hadn’t brushed up at all on understanding the Inkling dialect, which made deciphering the accents and words even more challenging than it had been so long ago. But they were talking about...looking for something. And Octolings. Were they looking for him?

Carefully, Hyacinth crept closer. He tried to stay hidden amongst the trees, hoping that his attempt at fairly muted green ink wouldn’t stand out too much. That was when he felt his whole mind stutter. It was the old man and the Inkling. The Inkling he hadn’t seen for a long time. A year? Two years? He didn’t know. But it was that Inkling. The pair were looking for an Octoling, and they’d come to his camp. What had he done to deserve this?

He must have made a sound, or been shaking too much, because the old man’s head whipped round to look at him. He felt like he was caught in a trap. He couldn’t move. He could only stare, thinking about how all of them were much too far from any spawning point to survive this.

Hyacinth didn’t understand the words that were spoken next, but he understood the sentiment clear enough as the old man waved his stick in his direction and the Inkling immediately fell into a fighting stance and started to shoot. “No!” He cried out, fumbling with shaky hands to reach his weapon. Why was he so afraid now? “Please, don’t shoot!”

But the Inkling wasn’t listening. Those burning orange eyes were fixed right on him as he went in for the kill. Hyacinth closed his eyes and fixed his own finger on the trigger, desperately hoping that he might be saved by something, anything, and that it wouldn’t hurt too much when he went. It had been a good time, being free, while it had lasted.

His limbs were screaming with the feeling of enemy ink, but it was only then he realised that the firing had stopped. What? He opened his eyes, only to see the Inkling lying on the ground. Something had intervened. But what? Hyacinth couldn’t see anything, yet he only realised now that when he’d been standing and watching, listening, there hadn’t been any birds or bugs making any sounds.

Something dangerous was here.


	18. Mr. Grizz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what I'd give to be employed!  
> Better, I'd say, to work for pay  
> Than ride this subway through the void.

Eight sat down on one of the hard subway seats and stared out of the window. The darkness seemed endless, and he could barely see outside because of the dim lighting of the carriage. But in the moments where he could catch a glimpse of something, he saw the faintest signs of huge objects floating off in the distance. He had time to kill, waiting to reach the next station, and he really needed some peace and quiet for a while.

The train was so loud for almost the whole day. Dawn until dusk, it was bustling with people who needed to go to school, to work, to get lunch, to go home. And then there was the rattle of the train itself which was just...constant. Unending. So moments of quiet like this as they pelted through unending darkness with no one else really around were precious.

He kept staring, half hoping that the void would give him answers. Who was he? Where was he going? What even was the promised land? He was clinging to these fragments of memories. Sunlight filtering through the leaves of a tree. A breeze on his face, the scent of salt but without the stale grease that penetrated the scent he knew. A hint of a smile on a face he no longer recognised or could even fully form inside his head. The figure didn’t even have a name in his mind. But they were important.

Snatches of feelings he couldn’t fathom. Down here he knew trepidation and fear. He knew searing pain and drawn out boredom. But up in the promised land, he’d experienced...warmth in the back of his throat, a good ache in his face. Bubbling laughter in his chest. There was one feeling that he had in common with the Eight who had lived above the surface with a real name and real connections, though; determination.

Over and over again, he could hear fractions of a song inside his head. Those snatches of melody, even though the lyrics were too faded for him to fathom, drove him on through all this suffering. It kept him going. He knew he had to keep going, because some day, if he just kept working, he’d reach the promised land and remember that song in full.

He stayed sat on the seat kicking his legs for a short while. He wished there was something to do down here rather than just waiting to get to the next station he needed to visit. Sometimes the journeys were barely short enough to catch his breath from the last test, but sometimes they lasted hours. He just wanted something to do. And he wanted consistency and balance.

As dawn approached, a couple of people got on at a secluded station. One strangely shaped fish looked at him as they got onto the train. “Test subjects…” he muttered, though it was entirely possible for Eight to hear him. “Think they own the place when they just waltz around. Try working for a real living.”

Eight felt nervousness leap in his heart as he opened his mouth to reply. He shouldn’t do this, but he didn’t want this man to just walk all over him. “I wish I could have a job,” he said, as confidently as he could manage with the man just staring at him. “I don’t want to be here. I didn’t volunteer for this; I just had no choice.”

He’d seen things about part time work. He’d love to be able to go to a place of work and do something mundane for hours and get paid enough to support himself. That would be amazing. He wouldn’t have to rely on dangerous tests to keep him on this metro that really couldn’t be called a home in any shape or form.

“Sure, you say that,” he said with a sniff. “You’re just a kid trying to go way higher than you can manage. Now shift, some of us have places to be and need to get a rest before we get there.”

Eight frowned at the man for his rudeness and moved up to the edge of the row so he’d have enough space to sit down. “It won’t be higher than I can manage when I reach it,” he said, mostly to reaffirm his own belief in himself, which was admittedly shaky at times. “And when I reach the promised land, I’ll get a job and earn my place in the world above.”

“Sure, kid,” the man said with a shrug. “How old are you? Do you even know, for that matter? Do you know what the promised land is like? Would they even want you up there? I’m not asking you to answer those questions, I’m just posing them to you so you can think about whether it’s worth it before you become the latest failed test subject.”

“I know it’s worth it,” he said firmly. That was the only thing he really knew at all, at this point. He had nothing down here other than his skill and the couple of people who were willing to help him. But anything was worth it if he could have a chance at regaining what he had lost and escaping this place to find a better life.

“They basically get through a test subject every week here, sometimes faster,” he said. “Bear that in mind. There are all kinds of people who’d give you a leg up if you decided to just quit.” Eight just shrugged and shook his head. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to give it up.


	19. SquidForce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squids often wear this as they strike  
> With bomb and brush. It's quite a rush.  
> I wish I could know what that was like...

“Oh, Eight, look what I found!” The words greeted him as soon as he flopped down on a metro seat, utterly exhausted. He was getting so close to that fourth and final thang that he needed to escape and he hadn’t slept for a while. He just had to keep pushing. He’d be free soon.

Eight opened his eyes sleepily and looked towards Cuttlefish, who was waving a magazine around. “What’s that?” He asked, fighting to make himself sound interested. He was so tired.

“It’s a magazine from the surface!” He said, grinning. Eight sat up straighter instantly. How had something from the surface managed to get all the way down here? “It’s one of those pieces of sponsored nonsense as always, magazines have really gone downhill since the good old days, but there’s some good stuff here. Do you read Inkling?”

Eight shrugged. “I haven’t found any down here so I don’t know,” he said. The Captain handed the sheaf of paper over to him with a big smile. Under the lights of the carriage it was sort of hard to read the glossy paper, but he could pick out a couple of words. “It’s about war?”

Cuttlefish laughed. “It’s not about real war,” he said. “It’s a game that all the kids these days like playing. Back in my day it was a whole lot more serious, but they’re all having fun, so I don’t see why not.”

“It’s...a game?” Eight asked. He couldn’t really understand how people could make war into a game, but Inklings sounded like very strange and very friendly people. This sounded a lot more violent, though.

“Absolutely, and they have a blast!” He said. “This is about turf war.” Cuttlefish shuffled over to sit next to Eight and started pointing at different words and pictures. The colour was slightly dimmed, but at least everything was intact. “My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, but these are about different weapons.”

“Tell me?” He asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the pages. It was so...colourful. Everyone looked different. Everyone looked happy. There were bright colours everywhere. Compared to the dingy metro, it looked wonderful.

“‘Course,” he said. “So the game mode everyone can play is called turf wars. People grab approved weapons and go in teams of four to cover the most ground in their ink colour…” If he was being honest, Eight didn’t understand everything that was being said. Cuttlefish’s speech was at times too rapid but at others too faltering for him to understand the flow and each individual word.

But that didn’t stop what was being described from being amazing. The Captain knew so much about all these ink battles that Inklings on the surface took part in. It sounded so chaotic and complex but at the same time so simple. There was such a regular core to the whole thing, but there were so many extra layers.

Closing his eyes, Eight could almost see himself alongside them. They looked different to him, obviously, but it was only a small difference. He didn’t use all eight of his limbs so he doubted Inklings used all ten of theirs, so he wouldn’t be at too much of a disadvantage. He could almost feel the sun on his face as he charged into the fray.

As his hands rested on his lap, he could still feel the familiar weight of a weapon between them. When he reached the promised land, which weapons would he favour? He enjoyed going in fast, taking everything out, and getting out again without a scratch. But he also loved biding his time and watching as they fell down before him without getting close. It was safer the latter way, but the first gave him more of a rush.

“If you get splatted in turf wars, does it really hurt?” He asked. Captain Cuttlefish looked at him in the way Eight always caught him looking when the Captain thought he couldn’t see. Eight didn’t have the words to describe the glance, but it made something hurt slightly inside him.

“Reforming always hurts a little,” he said. “But not much. It’s a kid friendly sport, after all! If it hurt that much, it wouldn’t be fun. Now come on, I’m sure you want to hear about different types of rollers. One of my granddaughters loves wielding the roller, though I’m more a charger man myself…”

Eight smiled to himself. One more thang. This future he wished for was within reach now. Soon all these things the Captain was telling him about would be his life. The life that he could live on his own, not needing to rely on tests and coincidence to keep him alive. He knew that, at the moment, Cuttlefish was trying to distract him from the fears that still lay ahead. But he didn’t mind. It was so nice to hear about what he was fighting for.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, letting the rocking of the train do the job of keeping him alert while he rested his eyes. It was so close. Soon, he’d have more than a fragment of memory on what the sun felt like, and what the world looked like. Soon.


	20. Inkling Squid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last we meet, my so-called foe.  
> But is our fate to spray this hate?  
> Perhaps we'll learn in depths below...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want a song for this chapter, I wrote this while listening to Xenoblade Chronicles 2's A Place in the Sun.

As the elevator finally finished moving, Eight could barely contain himself. Soon, after everything he’d suffered through, he would be free. It was close enough to touch, and- the pathway opened. He stepped outside to greet the future.

It was...colder than he’d expected. There was a sound, so familiar and yet so alien to his ears, rushing all around him, but at the same time it was calming. It took only a moment for him to register that it was the sea, and the cause of the cold was a breeze.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He could feel the winds messing up his hair and it was an amazing feeling. He stepped forward, trying to take it all in at once. The metal around him. The sea, dark and unfathomable and beautiful. Inkopolis, rising off in the distance; somewhere Eight would get to live in the future.

The sun. The warmth of the setting sun against his face. It was a comforting feeling. So simple, but so, so precious. He stepped into that light and he remembered everything that had brought him to this moment, standing in the light of the sun in the sea and finally being free.

Hyacinth looked to the sky as the helicopters came closer, and he couldn’t stop tears from springing to his eyes. He was free.

Of course, it turned out that not everything was said and done yet. But with the knowledge of what he was rejoining, pushing himself forwards to save the world was so much easier than any task he’d encountered before. He had a reason to win now. A reason really worth fighting for.

Collapsing onto the platform suspended in the air, Hyacinth finally allowed himself to relax and truly take in the people around him. Pearl and Marina, who he’d only communicated with in snatches of text, were...more than he could have imagined. They were so bright and full of life and happiness when they were with each other. It gave him so much optimism for what was to come.

Captain Cuttlefish sat off to the side a little, smiling to himself. “Nice, isn’t it, Eight?” He said when he spotted him watching.

“Hyacinth,” he said, returning the smile. “My name. It’s Hyacinth.” Cuttlefish’s smile only grew wider on hearing his words.

“Well, Hyacinth,” he said. “It’s been a pleasure, even if the circumstances were less than comfortable. I’m no big shot anymore and I don’t have any official say, but I hope you can take it to heart that you’re truly welcome here with the rest of us in Inkopolis.”

He had so many things he could have said in response to that statement, but in that moment Hyacinth felt that actions spoke louder than words. He put his arms around Cuttlefish for a few moments, feeling warm inside when the old man returned the gesture, before drawing away. “How old are you, Ei- Hyacinth?”

“Seventeen,” he said with a smile, knowing where this one was going.

The Captain chuckled. “Kids these days, so affectionate,” he said. “And speaking of kids, it looks like Three’s finally returning to the land of the living.”

Drawing away slightly, Hyacinth turned his attention to the Inkling lying on the floor. He was indeed stirring, and this time would hopefully be a lot less aggressive than last time. There was still an uncomfortable feeling inside him, though. This Inkling had tried to kill him no less than three times at this point; not to mention what he’d done to his friends and people.

Three opened his eyes, looking blearily at all the people scattered around the platform. His confused little squint was...almost cute, and Hyacinth couldn’t help but smile. Even if this was a person he didn’t think he could ever forgive, he was just feeling in a smiley mood right now. “What’s…? Where am I? Was that-” His eyes locked with Hyacinth’s. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

Hyacinth shook his head, but his tongue felt tied and he didn’t know how to respond. “Nope,” Captain Cuttlefish replied. “And it got even weirder after you smashed the blender, I promise.”

“I know,” he said quietly, and he sat up slowly, wincing as he pushed himself up. “I remember what came next, in a haze. We...escaped? I lost?” Hyacinth nodded. “You got me good,” he said with a small grin.

“I guess I did,” he said, trying to shake off the awkwardness he felt. This Inkling probably had no idea of the consequences of what he’d done. He was meant to be getting along with these people.

“So you’re an Octoling,” the boy said, his eyes practically drilling holes through him as he stared. “You don’t seem too bad. Thanks for getting us out of that pinch there. You’re really something.” When he’d finished speaking, he scratched the back of his head slightly awkwardly. The two tentacles on the back of his head bobbed up and down, and Hyacinth realised he was staring.

That was also when he realised he was blushing. He wasn’t used to his abilities being praised, especially not by an Inkling who had tried to kill him. “I- thank you,” he managed. He was too tired to manage a proper conversation right now.

“No, I should be the one thanking you,” he said. “What’s your name, Octo pal?”

“Hyacinth,” he said, trying to ignore the connotations of being called a pal. It was fine. This Inkling didn’t know, and if he did know then he was trying to move past it. Hyacinth could appreciate that. “It’s good to meet you properly this time. What’s your name?”

The Inkling laughed, showing all his very sharp teeth. “You mean it’s nice to meet when we’re not enemies,” he said. “But yes, it’s good to meet you too. My name’s Apollo.” Apollo. It was a nice name, and fitting for those eyes that still burned into him.

“It’s nice feeling the sun again,” he commented, moving to sit at the edge of the platform and look towards the city as it got closer and closer. Without saying anything, Apollo came to join him, and they sat looking at the sky together until it was time to get moving again. Freedom was getting off to a perfect start.


	21. White Tee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't quite trust this stark white brand.  
> It's more for squids or little kids...  
> And where's the pop? It's oh-so bland!

Inkopolis was...something. Bright. Loud. He’d only ever been here when it was early morning or late at night and he’d never ever seen it so busy. There were people everywhere and a whole bunch of them were staring at him. “You need some clothes that are a bit...better,” Apollo said. “And I need something fresher.”

“O-okay,” he managed, unable to stop his eyes from roaming around the entire square. This place was so familiar. But he hadn’t been here for at least a year now, if not longer. It had changed a lot. It was slightly chilly in these clothes.

“We should probably just head back to mine,” he said. Hyacinth would admit that he hadn’t been able to fully pay attention to what was arranged for him when they finally touched down, but they’d all split up and he’d ended up with Apollo, and would stay there for at least the immediate future. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Sure,” he said. He was still worried about what might happen if he was alone with this person who had killed his friends. But he didn’t have a choice. Being too trusting had really managed to get him into a problem earlier, but maybe this was different. Hopefully it was, because he didn’t seem to have much of a choice.

“This is Inkopolis Square,” Apollo said, waving his arm in a broad arc. “I won’t show you around now, because I really need sleep, but this is where most people spend most of their time.”

Hyacinth nodded, watching all the people as they passed. Everyone was dressed in such bright colours and not all of them were even going somewhere. They were just chilling in the square. It was a far cry from any places where large numbers of Octarians passed through.

And speaking of Octarians...Hyacinth caught sight of something he recognised easily. A drain, and above it, a ledge where some Inklings were sitting, swinging their legs and chatting in the sunlight. So many times, he’d sat on that ledge early in the day, talking to Tana, exchanging what they needed to.

“Hey, Hyacinth?” Apollo’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Why’re you looking at Grizzco? It’s not even open for shifts at the moment, so I’ll just show you when we’re both ready for stuff, okay?”

Hyacinth nodded, realising that Apollo meant the building behind where he was really looking. He felt so strange and out of place here. He had nothing in this world full of squids, and all the people around him knew so much more, had experienced so much more of this world. He shivered.

“You’re cold?” Apollo asked, and Hyacinth nodded. “Of course, you’re wearing basically nothing. Was it really warm on that subway or something? Hang on then.” He removed the bright jacket he was wearing and then unzipped the dark long sleeved on he was wearing underneath that. “Here, take this,” he said, and handed Hyacinth the warmer jacket.

Hyacinth took it gladly and zipped it up. It was a lot less cold now he had a jacket. “Thanks,” he said, and Apollo pulled his cloak slightly tighter around his body. “It was very hot in there. It was really stuffy.”

Apollo nodded, but didn’t say anymore as he led Hyacinth through the crowds and out of the square, along several different streets, and then up three sets of stairs before they reached a tall building. Hyacinth didn’t want to admit it, but he was faltering a bit. He was exhausted. “Nearly there,” Apollo said with a grin. “I live on the sixth floor so it’s a few more stairs.”

Hyacinth nodded, mostly just trying to stay awake for the rest of the time until there was a vaguely soft surface he could lie on horizontally. At this point, he’d sleep sitting up if he had to, which was pretty bad seeing as he was trying to climb stairs. When they finally reached the spot, Apollo fumbled in his shorts pockets for keys before unlocking the door.

“I’ll grab you a shirt to sleep in,” Apollo said, leaving Hyacinth in the room on his own. He stood there for a few moments just looking, not sure what to do. There was a very soft looking seating area to his right, and to his left there was a small table and a few countertops. This was too confusing and he was too tired to process it.

After a couple of minutes, Apollo came back in. “You can sleep on the sofa if you want,” he said, waving a white tee in the direction of the seating area. “I got this shirt for you, we can get something better in the morning, I know it’s a bit dull, sorry.” With that, he handed the shirt to Hyacinth.

“Thank you,” he said, even though he agreed that the shirt was really boring. But it was clean, and larger than the small clothes he’d been wearing on the metro. It was good for what it was needed for, even though he could tell on sight that it wouldn’t suit him at all.

“It’s no problem,” Apollo said, shooting him a thumbs up. Hyacinth tried to ignore the ugly twist in his stomach as his mind forcibly reminded him what Apollo had done. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll be doing the same in the next room.”

“Goodnight,” he managed. But staring at the soulless shirt he’d been lent and thinking of all the battlefields he’d seen devastated, he knew he couldn’t stay long, no matter how nice Apollo was being now. Ah well. There wasn’t much he could do about it right now, exhausted as he was. He’d just have to resolve these problems when he could.


	22. Autobomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its friendly face, its easy stride—  
> That's all a front. Let me be blunt;  
> It leaves you with nowhere to hide.

“Afternoon, Hyacinth,” Apollo said, announcing his presence as he came into the room. Within a few moments, he vaulted over the back of the sofa and flopped down next to him. Hyacinth couldn’t help but flinch away at the sudden movement. “Oops. Sorry, did I surprise you?”

“It’s fine,” he said, trying not to look up at the Inkling’s face. He kept thinking of the times Apollo had been opposite him, glaring with hate. “A-afternoon to you too.”

“Is everything okay?” He asked, and out of the corner of his eye Hyacinth saw him shift so he was practically upside down, trying to catch his eye. “You seem nervous. I know that I kind of kidnapped your king and everything, but he didn’t die, I promise! I don’t kill people.”

Hyacinth blinked. He honestly didn’t care about what had happened to Octavio at this point. “You- you don’t have to lie to me,” he said, hoping that his voice wasn’t wavering too much. This was scary. Apollo was scary.

“I hate ranked battles because they’re so violent and competitive,” he said, and he was smiling. Why was he smiling? “I could never hurt someone like that. Killing just...I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

Hyacinth didn’t know what to say. Was Apollo saying that he didn’t even know he’d killed so many Octarians? Did he think this was a game? Did he think it was just a little romp in the park, cutting off power supplies and killing large portions of their population? “Down in the Valley,” he started, “there isn’t much power. Powering respawn technology for everyone isn’t feasible. I’ve lost people to that.”

Apollo stared at him for a moment. Hyacinth had to avert his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what Apollo would do. The person he’d been blaming for all his suffering for so long hadn’t even known what he was doing. How could he not have known? Why was everything so unfair?

“I-I never knew,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I never knew. It was just...the right thing to do. And if they were standing in my way I just had to get them out of the way. And then they’d leave me alone. But I didn’t think…” He let out a small, sorrowful noise.

Hyacinth froze. He couldn’t keep up a steely anger towards him when he was like this. But he didn’t know if he could comfort the person who’d hurt his people so much. His life had collapsed because of Apollo. Twice, in fact, and he’d lost two people he cared about dearly to him. But unknowingly. How was he meant to feel about that?

Apollo was crying, and it was awful. Hyacinth couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him. He couldn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t, really. But he couldn’t say something mean, either. Because Apollo was crying and he felt really bad for making him cry.

Hyacinth closed his eyes and listened for a moment, trying to calm his racing mind and work out what he could do next. Slowly, he inched slightly closer to Apollo and put an arm around him. Without even a moment of hesitation, Apollo started crying even harder into Hyacinth’s shoulder. Hyacinth squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying not to cry as well. It wouldn’t help either of them. But he didn’t succeed in that, and found himself sniffling after a few moments.

It was so cruel. He’d lost one of his closest friends to this Inkling, who hadn’t even known that he was doing anything wrong. Hyacinth was conspicuously aware of something that Cuttlefish had mentioned once when they were on the subway; Apollo was only sixteen. He had been even younger when he did all of that. And Hyacinth had blamed him, because that was the easiest thing to do and because he’d been hurt.

But even though he’d done it, now Hyacinth felt like it wasn’t really Apollo’s fault. He’d caused that hurt, and the grief from then still hurt him, but it was also in the past. They were dead and nothing could change that now. But Apollo...Apollo was right here, alive, and hurting because he hadn’t realised what he did in the past. It was hard to know how to feel.

“It’s going to be okay,” he managed to say. He just hoped that his words were true.


	23. Firefin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your 'tude is righteous, as you say.  
> Is your science as defiant?  
> Prove that your battle rhymes can slay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazing art!!!!! http://olisepha.tumblr.com/post/176630934248/absolutely-gay-on-main-ft-colour-practice-w-scenes. Heck.

“Is there anything you particularly want to try out?” Apollo asked, standing behind him as Hyacinth browsed all the weapons on the shelves. It was strange, getting so much choice in a room so like the old supply rooms. The idea of getting a weapon in his hands again was also slightly unnerving because of how many he’d had to use in the tests.

“I don’t know,” he said, casting a quick glance at the price tags as he also examined each weapon carefully. Apollo had said that he didn’t mind spending a bit of money because it was easy to earn it back in turf wars, but Hyacinth didn’t want to cause too much of an issue.

“You can take your time,” Apollo said. “I don’t know if to point you in the direction of beginner friendly weapons first or not, though. I know you’re skilled with a Splattershot, but I don’t want to go recommending a Dynamo if you’re not familiar. Honestly, that weapon gets me frustrated even at the best of times.”

“Can I test this?” Hyacinth asked, pointing to the Inkbrush at the end of the roller shelf. From using the weapon before he was aware of its shortcomings, but he liked the idea of just...being mobile, being free. Flinging ink around with reckless abandon for the first time in his life.

“Sure!” Sheldon piped up from behind the counter. “Just take it out the back with your friend here, you can buy it if you like the feel of it. No charge for testing it out, my fancy-tentacled friend.”

“So much for secrets,” Apollo said with a chuckle once they were out in the practising area. “You were recognised on sight, apparently. Sheldon tends to keep to himself about anything other than weapons, though, so no need to worry.”

Hyacinth nodded, clutching the handle of the weapon tightly. He wasn’t used to this. Wielding a weapon had always had a goal for him. Just ‘practising, having fun’ as Apollo had told him to do was completely...he’d just never done it before. “This feels strange,” he admitted. “Do you, uh, mind standing back a bit?”

“Sure,” Apollo said, seemingly unphased. Maybe he was ignoring that Hyacinth didn’t feel entirely comfortable with being near him in an ink fight context. “Just have a go. Don’t look so tense!”

Hyacinth nodded again, trying to loosen his grip a little and get into a mindset of positioning, where his ink would spread, and damage output. Maybe he didn’t need to think about all that just yet, but it helped him to set up a route in his mind as to what he would do. When he felt ready, he started flicking the brush.

It was as fast as he had expected, but the coverage wasn’t quite what he was looking for. Every so often he had to place the brush on the ground and move to somewhere more empty, and soon enough he found that his ink tank was empty. He dipped into his ink, and when he surfaced, Apollo was right next to him.

Not thinking, he stumbled backwards, flailing slightly from the surprise. “Oops,” Apollo said, shooting him a shaky grin. “Sorry. I was just going to give you a pointer to duck into your ink after you’ve filled the area, rather than moving forwards with the brush. Also try jumping a bit more when you’re targeting the dummies. They’re not real targets right now, but moving makes you a lot harder to hit.”

“Th-thanks,” he said, adjusting the weapon in his hands again and having another go. Other than the jumping, it felt a lot better. He wasn’t sure if he could get used to constantly hopping up and down, though.

“I think you’re ready to try it out in a real match,” Apollo said, now watching him from the grating above the area. “Do you want me to grab this for you?” Hyacinth nodded, slinging the weapon over his back and adjusting it so it was stable before walking back into the shop.

Apollo went to buy the weapon, and as they were in the queue, someone came up behind them. “You don’t want that one, trust me,” the Inkling said. “Such short range is just bad. It’s making me shrivel up from lack of freshness just by looking at it.”

“I do want it,” Hyacinth said. “It’s for fun, and I enjoy it.” He was not going to let a stuck up squid ruin his first fun in ages.

“It’s not fun if you lose,” the Inkling said. “And it doesn’t do your team any favours either.”

“Can it,” Apollo said, turning around. The other Inkling stepped backwards slightly. “Unless you want to prove it in a fight, please leave my friend here alone. Anyone can be good with any weapon and turf wars is meant to be fun. Any good teammate would be understanding when someone’s trying out a tricky weapon for the first time.”

Before, Apollo calling him his friend had made him uneasy, but Hyacinth didn’t quite feel that way anymore. He’d warmed to Apollo, if only a little, after what had happened, and this just made him more certain that he wasn’t a bad person. He just had to give this time.


	24. Inkling Girl (Pink)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With tresses pink and eyes a blank,  
> A smile so faint, it hides your feint,  
> You slip on past—outfoxed! Outflanked!

Apollo said he wouldn’t play for the first couple of times that Hyacinth had a go at turf wars, he’d only watch so he could give some tips, but Hyacinth was glad for it. Fighting against or alongside Apollo would only make him nervous at this point, after everything had happened.

Coming up on the first match, though, alone with a bunch of strangers, Hyacinth found that he was really nervous. Most of the people here were a few inches shorter than him, and they kept staring, and they were clearly all beginners like him. That made him slightly less worried, but also more so at the same time. He stood out here.

When they jumped into the map, Hyacinth realised that he was totally out of his depth. He didn’t know this place at all and he’d probably get lost and let his team down and- but he shouldn’t worry. Because this was meant to be fun. They were just playing a game, having fun. And he should do the same.

Straight out the front from the start, he started flinging ink around everywhere he could reach. At first he couldn’t stop thinking about all the tactics and how Apollo was watching and how he was nervous about people thinking he wasn’t very good, but somewhere along the line he managed to relax slightly and start actually enjoying himself.

When he reached the middle, ink was going everywhere. People were fighting, getting splatted, and Hyacinth winced when he saw it. But he could feel the respawn signal loud and clear; he was perfectly safe, and these people were perfectly safe too. None of them were going to get hurt too badly by this, or it wouldn’t be a game that children played. It was going to be fine if he was splatted.

When he managed to shake off that fear, the different colours of ink flying in different directions was...sort of pretty, in its own way. Pink and green ink unfurling in a pattern of accident, targeting, and the joy and determination of the wielders. Hyacinth laid low in his own small pool of green ink, watching the fight breaking out.

At one point, a girl broke around the defences, moving so quickly and without effort that Hyacinth was awed for a moment before he realised that she was going round to flank his team. He watched carefully until her back was turned, and then emerged from his ink, flicking his brush as quickly as he could. Almost immediately, the girl was splatted and he watched her ink scurry back to the spawn point. He smiled slightly, feeling proud.

Of course, he was then immediately spotted by someone on the other team and they got him in return, but he didn’t mind. It didn’t even hurt, really. It was just a tugging sensation immediately, and a surge of energy. He couldn’t help but grin as he emerged from the pool of ink again, happily speeding back to the action.

For the remaining two minutes of the match, he and the pink Inkling girl danced around each other, constantly trading blows. Every time he spotted her off in the distance, he ducked out of sight, trying to work out a safe route towards her. Sometimes he could rush up behind her and get her before she spotted him; sometimes she found him lurking in the ink and got him before he could even get close enough to land a hit.

Every time that happened, Hyacinth was blown away by the smile on her face. It didn’t hold any anger, it didn’t make him feel unwelcome. She felt challenged by him, and he felt challenged by her, and it was...really fun. The exhilaration throughout the whole match was like nothing Hyacinth had ever experienced before.

He lost the match, but it was close, and even though victory had been torn away from them only slightly, Hyacinth wasn’t sad or annoyed with anyone on his team nor himself. The other team had the edge in the end, slightly, and that wasn’t a bad thing; it had still been fun.

Coming out at the end of the match, the girl he’d been exchanging splats with came over to him. “Hi!” She said with a wave. “You play really well with that thing. Are you new to Inkopolis?”

Hyacinth nodded, wondering what told the girl that. “I arrived two days ago,” he said, and her brow furrowed for a moment before she nodded and laughed.

“You must be from pretty far out, your voice is funny,” she said, her eyes drifting to his tentacle. “Your hair is cool though, I’ve never seen that style before. I hope we get to fight again some time.”

“Me too,” he said with a grin. “My name’s Hyacinth, it’s good to meet you.”

“My name’s Lune,” she said, smiling back. “Welcome to Inkopolis, Hyacinth!”


	25. Splattershot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The polished nozzle gleams and shines.  
> Unblemished gun reflects the sun.  
> A good day's match; victory's mine.

“Try this!” Apollo said after his fourth loss, tossing Hyacinth a very familiar weapon. It was just like a normal Octoshot, but the colours were brighter and it was a lot better cared for than the weapons Hyacinth had always used. “I know you’re a menace with a standard weapon like this. It’s good to change things up if you keep losing, or you just get stuck in a rut.”

“Sure,” he said, catching it without fumbling too much. His hands were shaking slightly, left over from the last match. He didn’t really mind losing, though it was a tiny bit frustrating, honestly. He felt like he was good, just maybe not quite good enough.

The next match started pretty much like the others, though he had to adjust his play style to a weapon which couldn’t cover as quickly or evenly. He darted around the floor of this seemingly abandoned office area, going first up the left side, where it could almost be described as quiet.

Turf wars were, he had noticed, very loud. Music blared through loudspeakers all across the arena, which made it pretty difficult for Hyacinth to concentrate, but the other Inklings didn’t seem at all bothered. But back here was an area just outside of the normal clamour of music, voices, and the sounds of weapons being fired and ink going everywhere.

He took a moment to make sure the area was inked properly, relishing in the slightly deadened sounds of this side room before hopping up onto the ledge overlooking the central area. Here was where the action was taking place; he could see all three members of his team in different places, with one of them raising a platform up in front of him.

It was chaotic, and for a moment, Hyacinth wanted to stay up in the relative safety of the perch he’d found for himself. He wouldn’t be able to hit anyone up here, and his position was very visible, but it felt removed and somehow safer. He almost wanted to leave the fighting to his teammates, but…he knew he had to play his part too.

The Splattershot was a fairly medium range weapon, not long enough range to hang back like he really wanted to. So he shifted to drop down through the grate he was positioned on and found himself right in the middle of the action. As if by magic, he managed to snap out of the slightly reluctant mindset he’d found himself in at the side and he shifted into the right attitude to throw himself directly into it.

This weapon he was more experienced with made all the difference. It fit just right in his hands, and he didn’t even have to think about his ink consumption or positioning anymore. He knew this weapon like the back of his hand and it was so natural to weave around enemies and obstacles and take control of all the turf in front of him.

The match wasn’t perfect, especially as his team was unbalanced in the favour of largely having short range weapons, but for the first time, Hyacinth felt like he was doing more than just having a bit of fun. This was a lot more serious, sure, and he was going to be really tired by the time he was finished today, but it was nice to feel skilled, too.

Towards the end of the map, Hyacinth started feeling confident enough to push in and start really taking control of more turf. He covered every corner he could find with swathes of ink, constantly moving, and maybe occasionally encountering problems where he had to back up and reassess the situation, but still...it felt amazing.

At the end of the match, they all gathered in front of the overhead with the two cats (Hyacinth was just beyond questioning strange Inkopolis things like that honestly) to watch the results, but it was clear who had taken the victory this time. Hyacinth could barely contain his grinning as he watched the percentage points tip over to his side.

The feeling of winning was great. His chest felt like it was bursting with happiness and exhilaration, and it was even better when Apollo came rushing over with a big grin on his face. “You are amazing with that weapon,” he gushed. “You have to practise with me some time that would be amazing-” he stopped short at that, probably realising the implications of what he’d said, but Hyacinth didn’t really mind.

He was too excited about his victory to care too much, honestly. Maybe there was still work to do with him and Apollo and things he still had to build up with him until they could be comfortable around each other. But for now, this was good. Really good.


	26. Jelfonzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I watch your tendrils undulate  
> A blue bouquet that twirls and sways,  
> As central mass swells and deflates.

“You really need some fresher clothes,” Apollo said, looking over at Hyacinth from where he was stretched full length on the sofa. Hyacinth barely acknowledged him, just continuing to clean his Splattershot Pro. “Do you want to go shopping?”

“Do we have to?” He asked. He liked going out and all, but he felt awkward when Apollo spent money on him. He was already living with him for the low, low price of ‘please contribute some turf war winnings to the rent’. He also felt awkward in shops, like people were staring at him.

“Your existence in my house as a fashion disaster pulls the entire value of the property down,” Apollo said, acting like he wasn’t a complete disaster himself. His shoes right now were neon green and his shirt was yellow. Not to mention his hideous glasses.

“You don’t own the flat,” he said with a small smile. “If it brought the property value down, it would just decrease the price of the rent, which would be a good thing.”

“Please let me buy you a new outfit,” Apollo said. “You can pick it and everything, I promise! You look too great on the battlefield to just be kicking about in the most basic clothing you could pick out of the shop. I know you just picked the second cheapest thing there in each shop we went to.”

Hyacinth sighed. “Fine,” he said. He really didn’t like shopping, but he was fond of clothes. And his shirts were so boring. He did want to have something new, and something more him. “But at least let me pay with money I’ve earned from turf war, it’s only fair.”

“I’ll buy the cheapest item, then,” Apollo said, clearly just trying to strike a compromise he knew Hyacinth would accept. “You can buy the rest. I just want to take you shopping and show you everything Inkopolis shops have to offer.”

So, they left the house to go shopping in the Square. It was early evening, so the area was starting to get a little quieter as squids went home to have dinner and go back to their families. That made it a perfect time for shopping, really, only topped by early in the morning, because there weren’t as many judging eyes on him. It probably did mean he stuck out a little more, but he’d very much discovered over the last couple of weeks that Inklings had no idea what an Octoling looked like.

First stop was shoes, and Hyacinth attempting to avoid the shopkeeper’s beedy eyes as they followed him around. He always looked suspicious, like he thought people were going to steal his shoes or something. While he watched in horror as Apollo actively considered buying huge orange and blue trainers, Hyacinth went to the section with all the boots. He eyed them up all carefully, but eventually settled on a pair of cherry coloured lace up boots.

Next was the hat shop, which was just another disaster waiting to happen with Apollo around. Apollo liked trying on everything he came across. This meant that he stumbled across the shop floor with twenty hats and pairs of glasses balanced in his rather spindly arms. It was a nightmare and Hyacinth felt a bit embarrassed being with him, too.

Once Apollo was busy admiring himself in the mirror, however, Hyacinth got the chance to look around and find something for himself. He wasn’t sure he liked hats, because they crushed his tentacle a bit, and anything that was open top ended up with his hair perched awkwardly on the top of the hat brim, which was really uncomfortable.

He spent ages searching around until the shopkeepers came up to him to help out. “Do you need help there?” The woman asked.

“If you do, figure it out yourself!” The clownfish chimed in. Hyacinth felt a little awkward, but he ignored it.

“I don’t really want something that’ll crush my hair,” he explained. “Can you, uh, recommend anything?”

“If you’re looking to keep your hair free but have abilities in combat, I’d recommend the fake contact lenses,” the woman said. “But if you’re looking for something stylish, you’d be better off with cushioned headphones, which are just over there.”

“Thank you!” He said, heading over to where she pointed. From there, it was relatively simple to pick out a pair of large red headphones. He liked the bright colour, and they were comfortable when he tried putting them on. Apollo wasn’t quite so pleased, though, and he ended up just donning his rectangular glasses again.

The last shop was to buy a shirt or jacket. Apollo was immediately drawn over to the section with all the leather jackets, which could not have clashed worse with the rest of his outfit, but at least the individual item didn’t look ugly this time. Hyacinth had a bit more trouble, though. He wandered around the shop looking at t-shirts, heavy jackets, jumpers, everything under the sun he could think of. He just couldn’t decide what he wanted.

He grabbed a few things to try, but none of them felt right. Eventually, Apollo had finished up buying his new jacket and came over to help him out. “What about this?” He asked, pointing over to the section of shirts. Hyacinth followed the direction of his gesture and, to his surprise, Apollo had actually found something that looked nice.

“That’s perfect!” He said, immediately grabbing it off the rack. It was a dark grey shirt with pinkish-red spots all over it, and it was exactly what he was going for. He tried it on quickly, and he knew he wanted to buy it. It just completed the outfit. “Thanks so much,” he said. “This is going to look so much better than plain old polo shirts.”

“You look great in it,” Apollo said with a grin, and Hyacinth found himself...blushing. He wasn’t used to looking nice or being complimented. It felt...good. New and unfamiliar, but definitely good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look okay I forgot to put Jelfonzo in the chapter. But he's there in spirit because it's about shopping.


	27. Familiar Graffiti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've seen this, but I'm not aware  
> Just what the splat I'm looking at!  
> Is it a frog or a brown bear?

“What’s this?” He asked, pointing towards a symbol that was painted on the wall next to him. It was a strange shape and a funny colour and it was just one of many things about Inkopolis that he could never hope to understand.

“It’s just graffiti,” Apollo explained, with barely even a glance at it. “It doesn’t have a meaning, as such, it just...is. You know?”

“It probably has a meaning,” Hyacinth said. “Like...a symbol for a group. Or a position, or something. Everything has meaning of some kind.”

“Maybe for you,” Apollo said with a shrug. “But everything is ordered for Octolings. We’re different here, and you probably just need to get used to it.”

Hyacinth froze a little. They were in public and he’d just outright gone and said that Hyacinth was an Octoling. He knew that Inklings were nice and accepting and all, but this was something very different. And the generalisations that Apollo had just made about his life and mindset...it didn’t sit right with him.

“Hang on,” he said quickly, just about holding back his tears. “I’ll be back in a bit.” It was a dumb excuse and he had no reason to say that other than that he was upset. Apollo would know instantly that something was wrong. But he’d just been overcome with the overwhelming sense that he really, really needed to get away.

He tore through the crowds, walking as quickly as he possibly could. He knew that as soon as he stopped and tried to process it he’d definitely be crying and he needed to get far, far away before that. And he needed to get somewhere Apollo wouldn’t expect him to be.

Without thinking, Hyacinth ended up by the entrance to Grizzco. It was somewhere he hadn’t set foot in at all with Apollo, and it was out of the way of the square itself, and...this was where he used to meet Tana. He didn’t know why he’d been drawn here specifically, but maybe he just- he felt alone, and separate from the people here. They had a cultural understanding and background that he could never even hope to grasp.

He sat down, put his head in his hands, and cried. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. But panic had seized him and now...now he just felt wrong. Everything was slightly off, and he didn’t know how, and everything that had looked friendly before felt threatening and he just wanted to go home. He wanted to go home. He wanted familiarity. He didn’t want to have to second guess every single thing he saw.

Hyacinth hated having to ask questions all the time, and work through everything he didn’t understand. He hated looking stupid. He hated Apollo thinking he was stupid, or people around him thinking he was stupid. He looked like a fool, all the time, and it was awful.

He sat there, crying, until someone came up behind him and sat in that same damned spot that Tana always sat in. For a moment, he thought it was her, but when the arm settled around his shoulders he realised Apollo had found him. “Everything okay?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly. Hyacinth just shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” Apollo continued. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was- I don’t know, I was trying to be encouraging, but I really failed with that one. Sorry. I know you’ll get used to things eventually, and I’m really really sorry that I said that in front of people. I’m sure no one heard.”

“It’s okay,” he said, but it wasn’t entirely okay. It had been really scary and hurtful to hear those words from one of the only people he was meant to be able to trust these days. “Just- you know. It hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m just...working to explain all these things I’ve always understood is really exhausting, I guess. And I’m not doing too well myself. I- you know what, we should both just have a break.”

Hyacinth’s heart seized up with fear again. Was Apollo telling him to get lost for a few days? “I-I don’t have anywhere to go,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes again. It hurt.

“No, not like that!” He said, his hand squeezing Hyacinth’s shoulder in a way that vaguely registered as comforting. “Like...a break. Away from people and obligations and my crappy cramped flat. Doing fun things! And talking with no one around to hear us.”

“I- okay,” he managed, though he was still confused. He guessed he’d just have to go with the flow, like an Inkling, and work it out as he went along.


	28. Tentatek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our sweat dripping from every pore.  
> The harsh, hot sun won't stop this run.  
> We grit our teeth and ask for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes  
> That only took me five months I guess

They got out past Inkopolis, travelling as far down the line as the train would take them. It was the stop beyond Camp Triggerfish, and then they walked even further from there. They each had a heavy bag, full of any supplies they might need, and that was the first problem.

The sun was boiling out here. Away from the city with the shade of the skyscrapers, out of a place where a building with air conditioning was only a few seconds away, it was hot. Too hot, really. Where they were now didn’t have any cover, any trees, just a vast expanse of grass.

Yet, somehow, even though he was hot and uncomfortable and this was pretty awful honestly, Hyacinth felt...better. He felt calmer, away from the lights and sounds of Inkopolis. It was more like his old home.

Inexplicably, they’d both broken into a run the moment they’d left the station, and Hyacinth didn’t stop running, even when his chest was heaving from the exertion of running in the heat and he was hot and uncomfortable. Eventually, he heard the sound of Apollo hitting the ground, and he span round, the loss in momentum somehow disrupting his movement and sending him falling to the ground as well.

The next sound was breathless laughter, and it took Hyacinth a moment to realise it was coming from himself. Even though physically he felt awful and he’d probably twisted something or hurt a muscle on the way down, he felt better than he had since...probably since before the metro.

“I needed this,” Apollo’s voice was closer than Hyacinth had expected, but he hadn’t been able to see because of just how long the grass was. “I just needed to get away from all that.”

“Inkopolis is a lot,” Hyacinth agreed.

“I guess it is,” came the reply. “I’ve lived there my whole life. It is...loud, isn’t it?”

Hyacinth nodded. “I couldn’t believe it when I first came to Inkopolis during the day. It’s just so big, but there are so many people.”

“So you’d been before?” Apollo asked.

“At night, or early in the morning,” he said. “When it was quiet, and everyone was asleep.” He sort of wanted to see how it felt, being up early in the day now he knew the city a little better, maybe seeing if he could spot an Octoling he’d seen before...but he was yet to even wake up that early, and even if he did, he didn’t know if he would dare venture outside.

“I used to wander around when it was late sometimes,” Apollo said. “It gets quieter, but there’s always something going on. Or maybe that’s just where I live, I think upstairs has parties every night.”

Hyacinth let out a short laugh. “They have a lot of parties. Does everyone in Inkopolis do that?” It was the same old thing with him asking lots of questions about how life worked, but it didn’t feel so desperate out here. Just idle curiosity more than anything.

“People tend to be busy having a social life, yeah,” Apollo said. “I don’t get involved all that much, really. I don’t like it, honestly. It’s loud and things get...wild. I stick to what I know, what I’ve been good at for years. Anything new is really exhausting.”

“Sorry,” he said. He was the something that was new, he knew that much. He was a huge change in Apollo’s life. It was really obvious to him that Apollo wasn’t used to living alongside someone else, and definitely not telling them everything that he’d just taken for granted in life. Apollo had even said as much.

“It’s not you,” Apollo said. “I...it’s sort of you. Not entirely you. It’s just everything that happened at the same time. I was never...I always felt like I was doing the right thing. And when I was done with- with the Octoling stuff, I went back to having a fun life. And I was fine. But after looking for you, and the whole deal with the underground…”

He trailed off, leaving them both lying in silence. Hyacinth didn’t know what to say, partly because he didn’t really know what Apollo was trying to tell him. “Was it bad, the part you were in?” he asked.

Apollo didn’t say anything, but from the shifting sound in the grass, Hyacinth was willing to bet that he’d nodded. “It was...dark. I didn’t know what I was doing and I felt so vulnerable. No one was there to help me, and when I finally managed to find the Captain...well. It didn’t end well. And then there was everything that happened after that, and…”

“It’s over now,” he said. That was what he’d been trying to tell himself this whole time. The old stuff, the hard stuff, all of that was over. He was living a new life now, and it was going to be good. It was going to be okay. “You can go back to normal. I don’t have to stick around forever, obviously-”

“No,” Apollo said immediately, cutting him off. “Not on the sticking around thing. It’s- I mean- I don’t mind, it’s your choice as to what you want to do. It’s easier to pay the rent with you around. I just meant- I can’t go back to normal. I feel different.”

“I sort of know what you mean,” he said. Sometimes he thought back to when he’d been on his own in the wilderness, or when he’d been back with the Octarians, and it felt strange. It felt like he’d been a different person. The person who’d been on the metro...that wasn’t him. That was someone who hadn’t known who they were. But at the same time, he remembered all about that.

Being on the train on the way here had not been fun. Hearing trains in Inkopolis always set him on edge. And occasionally, though he had no idea what caused it and what held it back, turf wars stopped being fun and started reminding him of tests. It made it difficult to carry on sometimes.

“I wish...no, I don’t wish other people had been through it too,” Apollo said. “I wouldn’t want anyone to feel like I do. But it feels so lonely, going around Inkopolis knowing that they can enjoy life more than I can.”

Hyacinth nodded. He felt held back too, sometimes, by lack of shared experiences. He’d seen a completely different world compared to the one that Inklings had seen. And Apollo had seen some of that world, and some of a completely different world too. “Maybe it doesn’t- maybe it doesn’t need to be lonely.”

“Yeah,” Apollo said. “You’re right. I don’t have to keep it all to myself and suffer on my own. But that goes both ways, okay?” He sat up, finally coming into Hyacinth’s field of vision. “I won’t be lonely with my feelings kept apart, and neither will you.” Hyacinth managed a shaky smile before pushing himself up off the ground to sit up. He could manage that.


	29. Takoroka Mesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It keeps the elements away:  
> No rain, nor heat, nor wind, nor sleet.  
> But does it guard against ink spray?

Apparently the weather varied wildly away from Inkopolis, too, because the two of them had barely reached the trees of the forest before the rain started coming down. Hyacinth had heard about rain before, of course; if it ever started raining when he was on an above-ground delivery, he had to get to shelter. Rain wouldn’t...it wouldn’t kill them, exactly, but it could hurt a lot and it was best not to be caught in it.

But though he’d heard about it, he’d never seen it. Underground, you just didn’t get rain. And you definitely didn’t get rain in the metro. On top of that, Inkopolis tended to be a very warm place, and the weather was always pretty much the same. So the weather was yet to change while he’d been around.

Apollo glanced up, looking slightly annoyed. “Let’s get under a big tree,” he said, brushing a raindrop from the brim of his cap. “It’s less likely to get us there. We could probably do with a break, anyway.”

Hyacinth nodded, just looking back where they’d come from, beyond the trees. It was...certainly something. He just didn’t know how to describe it. It gave him a feeling that felt sort of like there were words swirling inside his mind, except there weren’t.

They walked deeper into the woods in silence for a few minutes, before they came to a tree with a larger trunk than the others. When Hyacinth glanced up, he could barely see the grey sky through the huge spread of all the branches above him. The ground was almost dry here, only a few drops hitting the ground here and there, so the pair of them slowed to a stop.

“Definitely time to stop,” Apollo said cheerily, practically flopping down onto the ground. He grinned up at Hyacinth from where he was sat, cross-legged. “This tree drops soft, fine leaf things,” he said. “Sit down, it’s nice!”

Cautiously, Hyacinth prodded the ground around the tree with the toe of his shoe, and then he sat down on the ground next to Apollo, his back against the trunk. This was a position he was used to. He’d spent hours, when he was tired, just sat, alone, with his back to a tree. But he wasn’t alone anymore.

“I really like the rain,” Apollo said. “I used to sit under an umbrella out in the rain every time it happened in Inkopolis. Just because I like the sound. It gets quiet in the city, too, because people don’t like just hanging out in the rain.”

“It’s a good sound,” he said. He smiled up at the sky and closed his eyes. It was unlike anything he’d heard before, really. It was uneven, yet so regular, and it just felt relaxing. It was a sound that just...he didn’t know, but he liked it. “I’ve never seen rain before.”

“You haven’t?” Apollo asked. “Well, I guess you have now. I guess you don’t really get rain underground...I hadn’t thought about it.”

Hyacinth managed to hold himself back from saying that there were lots of things Inklings just didn’t think about. It sprang to mind in a sort of teasing way rather than a malicious way, but he didn’t want to put Apollo under any stress again. “The weather’s always clear down there,” he said.

“How did you...how did you grow things?” he asked with a small, thoughtful frown.

Hyacinth shrugged. He’d never been told the specifics of how to grow things. It just sort of happened. “I didn’t know,” he said. “It wasn’t really my job to know or care.”

“What was your job?” Apollo asked. “If you- if it’s okay to ask. Obviously.”

“I delivered things,” he said. “You know, like Inklings order stuff and get it delivered to their doors? I collected and delivered things between military bases and stuff. It was boring, but relatively free, considering.”

“So you just...went back and forth carrying packages?” Apollo asked. Hyacinth nodded. “Was it...dangerous, or anything?”

Hyacinth laughed. “No, that was the point. It was a super easy task that almost anyone could do, which is why I was doing it. Octoling men don’t tend to be combat units.”

Apollo grinned, and leaned closer to him. For a moment, he felt distinctly embarrassed, but he couldn’t fathom why. “Because you’re squishy and soft?” he asked, poking the large tentacle on his head. It occurred to Hyacinth in that moment that maybe Apollo didn’t actually know why Octoling men were kept off combat lines.

“Something like that,” he said with a smile. Apollo didn’t have to know. If...if no one knew, then maybe people wouldn’t look at him the same way he’d always been looked at as a man. “I mean, think of me, think of Marina. Which is scarier, really?”

“I feel like I’ve seen your scary side, though,” Apollo said with a laugh. “All I’ve seen of Marina is her cuddling her girlfriend and performing on TV.”

“Octoling women are so much scarier than the men,” he said. “Though that’s probably because of combat training. Marina is a weapons expert, right? My expertise is more like...trying not to be late.”

“I’m sure you have Inklings beaten at that,” Apollo said with a grin. Hyacinth tried not to notice how he hadn’t actually moved away at all. He was still there. Still close enough that they were almost touching, huddled under this tree. “I swear, everyone I know is late for everything.”

“If everyone is late for everything, is everyone on time?” he asked. Apollo just started laughing.

“No, because people are late to different degrees. Sometimes I’ve organised a match with friends and we’ve started half an hour later because someone wanted to have a different kind of bread for lunch.”

“Is...is Inkling culture real?” he asked, and at this point, Apollo was doubled over with laughter. “I just...how.”

“It is pretty funny, explaining it,” Apollo managed to squeeze the words out between gasping for air and laughing. Then a bright flash of light filled Hyacinth’s vision, followed almost immediately by a loud rumble of...something.

He jumped, his hands immediately going to Apollo’s arm. “Wh-what was that?” he asked, looking around them frantically. Nothing had changed, it felt exactly the same around them, but...maybe the rain was disguising the sound of something.

Apollo put a hand on his back, and gently just moved his hand up and down, slowly. “It’s okay,” he said. “Hey, don’t panic. It’s the weather. Thunder and lightning. It tells us that a storm’s close, so I think we should move on. Don’t want to be under a tall tree in the middle of a storm, but it’s nothing to worry about, okay?”

Hyacinth nodded, still looking around. Just to check. They didn’t have any weapons out here, but...no. No, it was going to be fine. Apollo said it would be fine, and, really he- he sort of trusted Apollo. In a strange way. But the trust was there and he could...he could work with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) a comment would be greatly appreciated, no matter how big or small.


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